


Wasteland Avengers pt.1

by Skelling



Category: Fallout 3, Fallout 4, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 61,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skelling/pseuds/Skelling
Summary: Smashing together the fandoms of the MCU and the 3D Fallout games. I've rewritten and remoulded this so many times over the past two years and now its time to unleash it on an unsuspecting public
Relationships: Captain America/The Winter Soldier, Crossbones/Jack Rollins, Falcon/Reilly, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Kudos: 3





	1. DC National Guard Depot - 6th June 2277

War. War never changes.  
Since the dawn of humankind, when our ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything: from God to justice to simple, psychotic rage.

In the year 2077, after millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation.

But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter of human history. For man had succeeded in destroying the world - but war, war never changes.

In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters, known as vaults. But when they emerged, they had only the hell of the wastes to greet them - all except those in Vault 101. For on that fateful day, when fire rained from the sky, the giant steel door of Vault 101 slid closed... and never reopened. It was here you were born. It is here you will die.

Because, in Vault 101: no one ever enters, and no one ever leaves

***

Tony Stark always distrusted people, deep down. Outwardly he was a silver tongued, headstrong, narcissistic womaniser. The last part was true introspectively, but he wasn't nearly as confident as the persona he exuded. The two hired guns that took him on the three mile foot journey through the ravaged streets of the city could have robbed him and left him for dead at any point. He didn't mind that the pair barely said a word to him most of the way. They were paid to keep him alive, not become his friends.  
On the ship the taller of the two asked about his clothing choice.  
'You sure you wanna go the whole way through DC, you know, like that?'  
Stark's appearance and dress sense was a point of pride. In the market hall it set him apart from the Wastelanders desperate to peddle their wares. His suits were always clean, his facial hair groomed to perfection. In his mind it was what made him the most successful salesperson the Capital Wasteland had seen. In reality it was the inelasticity of what he manufactured and sold. Weapons, armor, and ammunition. He asked no questions. It was only the Ship City's security forces barring bandits, raiders, and junkies from the vessel that stopped him selling to them.  
On occasion he would leave the bastion of safety that was Rivet City to secure lucrative contracts with settlements and organisations further afield. In such times he entrusted control of his pitch in the market to the only two people he called friends. James Rhodes, a pioneer soldier from the military centric settlement of Germantown. Virginia 'Pepper' Potts had an intellect rivalling Stark's, only without the planet sized ego. She kept the books for SRP Armorers, and kept Tony in check when his bombast got out of hand.  
Today's excursion was not business related. Neither was it particularly pleasurable for Tony. Those were the two options given to him when he contacted the leader of the mercenary group for armed protection. The eponymous Reilly, founder of Reilly's Rangers, answered his radio call the week before. He had surprised her, intruding on the group's encrypted frequency at around 10am.  
'Hey, good morning. Do you guys still do close protection?' he asked with feigned ignorance.  
'Excuse me?' her gruff voice replied. 'Who are you? Tolson did you lose another receiver?'  
A third voice entered the airwaves.  
'Don't think so boss. I think this guy's hotwired us'  
'Fuck. Whatever. What do you want new guy?'  
'New guy? You can't recall the voice of your beloved supplier of all things deadly?'  
'Stark? What's wrong with our public contact system?'  
'I don't like being left on hold. Not interrupting anything am I?'  
Stark already knew from listening in to their frequency that the Rangers were not on active duty. He wouldn't intrude like this if they were.  
'No, guess not. What can I do for you Mr Stark?'  
'Please, you've been a valued customer for years, call me Tony'  
'That ain't going to happen Stark. Get on with it'  
'Fine I'll bite. I need someone to get me from Rivet City to Tenleytown and back with a half hour stopover. Two should be enough. A week tomorrow'  
'Let me check our schedule...that's affirmative Stark. I'll send Sergeants Farrant and Westaway to meet you at zero eight hundred hours on June sixth. Work or another broad caught your eye?'  
'Eh, doesn't fit either bill Ms Tiernan'  
'Suit yourself. It'll be five hundred, half when underway and half on completion'  
The two men were not impressed when Stark arrived at their rendezvous point at 9am.  
Tenleytown, like the rest of urban DC, was a mess of collapsed buildings, car wreck choked streets, and lurking dangers. His escorts checked every corner with an intensity that struck Stark as paranoid. Every wayward sound made one of them raise a fist and drop to their knees. Tony refused to do such a thing every single time.  
'If you really want to get your head blown off Stark, that's fine by us'  
'Just pay us the completion fee first'  
'They're shooting near us, not at us. I am not scuffing the the fabric on this Tom Ford for nothing' Tony asserted.  
The sound of gunfire was only intriguing to Stark. Every distant ping, snap, or burst of a weapon discharging was part of a game. A game he involved his company in once their destination was close.  
'That was a...M16' he said, pointing in the direction of the sound.  
'Of course it was. Half the guns in the Capital Wasteland are M16s' Westaway called from behind a low wall.  
Only when bullets ripped up shreds of asphalt at Stark's feet did he step out of the middle of the road, joining the soldiers. Their expressions ranged from concern at whoever was trying to kill them, and confusion at Tony's carelessness. Both turned to anger when the salesman continued talking over the shootout that followed.  
'You're right about M16s being in abundance. I'd say one of them is a pre-A1 model. Another has been retooled to fire .308 rounds for some reason'  
'That's great Stark. Really useful in a fight' yelled Farrant.  
'It is actually. The one with the 308 is going to have less rounds per mag, and each one is heavier, causing a longer reload time'  
Farrant nodded reluctantly and spun out from behind a concrete pillar when a moment of quiet fell. At the opposite end of the ruined avenue he spied the raider poorly concealed by a car wreck. A three round burst punched through reddened metal and killed the attacker. Calm returned to the district of Tenleytown, bringing Stark and Westaway out of cover.  
'Guess the other guy bolted' Tony shrugged, sweeping concrete dust from his shoulders. The last part of their route took them past where the attackers opened fire from. Tony couldn't help checking the dead man's gun. He was correct about the cartridge size, much to Farrant's chagrin. The salesman's ego only inflated further when he found the other gunman's discarded weapon. By a pile of spent casings he found the black rifle and picked it up.  
'Ha! Look, it is an M16. Jeez did this idiot pull it from a museum?'  
Briefly checking over the firearm he noticed why the Raider had thrown it and run.  
'M16s, introduced in the 1960s, had terrible reliability issues, solved only after Congress got involved. Did you know the Viet Cong wouldn't even take these off dead soldiers in Nam?'  
'What the hell is a Viet Cong?' Farrant asked.  
'What the hell is Congress?' asked his partner.  
Tony laughed lightly to himself.  
'Whatever Stark, you're gonna get killed by your own merch someday'  
'It won't be a piece of antiquated crap like that though. You're quick to forget that the guns that saved us came from me. These idiot gangers buy from Harith or Jack over at Evergreen'  
Stark's destination was the imposing National Guard Depot. Sitting on the northern limit of the urban area, the brutal facade looked over the ash grey rolling hills of Maryland. Farrant and Westaway had never been to the building before, only seen it from a distance. It didn't stand out particularly, being in the same state of ruin as the crumbling edifices that nestled it. Part of the roof had collapsed, taking the five stories with it to ground level. Tony led the bewildered guards through lobbies, hallways, and training rooms, all picked clean by scavengers long ago. Only in an unassuming custodian storeroom did they discover why he came here.  
Stark pulled a handle hidden behind junk on a shelf, revealing a concealed bulkhead door. An intercom device in the corner of the room crackled with a man's voice.  
'You're interrupting vital work. What do you want'  
Tony spoke with vulnerability rarely heard in response.  
'What, you don't think I'm gonna visit my old man on his birthday?'  
Farrant and Westaway followed Stark through the automated door, blinking as the dark passageway was flooded with light. Before the next doorway were two cushioned chairs and a drinks dispenser with several buttons.  
'Okay gents, this won't take long. Take a seat and help yourselves to coffee. Anyone comes through the door? Use your shooty sticks'  
Howard Stark didn't turn from his workdesk when his son entered. The pile of assorted electronics lay before him, torn apart for the smallest components. His grey hair was slowly turning white under the straps of the welding mask. Tony stood awkwardly waiting for his father to speak. When he did, the usual blase attitude still stung.  
'Are you just going to stand there?'  
'Uh no, happy birthday Pops. What's this vital work I'm evidently not getting in the way of?'  
'It doesn't kill people, you wouldn't care'  
'Oh come on. I'm genuinely intrigued'  
'Fine' he turned off the acetylene torch and flicked up the dark lensed plate of metal. 'Come and see. You might learn something'  
A curious cylindrical device sat surrounded by wires, tools, and empty coffee cups.  
'I call it an Arc Reactor. It's going to be the biggest step forward in energy production since the splitting of the atom'  
Tony gazed over his father's work, following every wire and mapping out each visible circuit board. Within seconds he saw how the device could become operable.  
'You know dad, with a little tweaking-' the strike on his outstretched hand silenced the son.  
'I will not have you turn this, the fruit of several months, into the next nuclear bomb Tony. Not a chance. You see technology and all you think is how it could be weaponised. Not this time. I won't allow it'  
'I was just trying to help you. You're close to making it work'  
'I don't need your help. Thank you for remembering my birthday. I heard there are some kids that are yet to be shot by your merch so you better head back' Howard said callously.  
Tony gritted his teeth and turned back toward the door.  
'You know Mom is fine. I checked in on her all the way up in Olney. Not that you seem to care'  
'I just got off a video call with her actually. Maria and I currently have the only working audio-visual communication system in the Capital Wasteland, potentially the whole United States'  
Tony turned back around to see his father had finally taken the mask from his head.  
'That's what separates you and I Tony. We're both smart. Got an affinity with all things mechanical. I use it to make people's lives better. You use it to make them worse'


	2. Vault 101 - 20th October 2077

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Say hello to skinny Steve Rogers, my gender bent Rumlow and Barnes, and the denizens of 101.

There was a mechanical hum that was present throughout the underground city that was Vault 101. It never seemed to differ in pitch or volume wherever you found yourself. Whether in the stark steel corridors, expansive atriums, canteens, or gymnasiums. It was always there. The monotonous drone, just quiet enough that it didn't disturb you, but loud enough to always hear.  
Steve Rogers only ever noticed it in the few seconds after waking each morning. Before any other sound filled his ears. Any other sound worth listening to. On the 20th of October, 2277 he had no such experience. A hushed voice filled his ears and invaded his dreams before the images swirled from his head like ink down a drain.  
'Steve? Come on dummy. We have time for a few games if you get up now'  
He blinked until her face came into focus. Rebecca Barnes stood over him. Her dusky brown hair fell just shy of his face, framing hers. Strands clung around her ears and neck still from the helmet she'd just discarded.  
'Becky?' he mumbled. 'What time is it?'  
'Five thirty. How many times could I whoop your butt before day lights come on?'  
She pulled back, grinning, as the slim man got himself out of bed. Steve pulled one of the many identical blue jumpsuits from the concealed wardrobe. Rebecca feigned boredom and sat on the double bed as he pulled the oversized suit over his nightwear. The twilight lighting always made his eyes hurt and head ache, but for Rebecca he would endure it.  
The pair walked through the dim corridors, not encountering any of the thousands of residents with which they shared the Vault. Despite never seeing daylight, efforts were made to give the population regular routines and sleep patterns. Before sealing, the Vault-Tec staff sourced research from federal prison services on how inmates respond to environmental deprivation in solitary confinement. Results were fine tuned by successive Overseer regimes, resulting in no issues arising from sleep distortion.  
The only department to be fully operated twenty four hours a day was Security. Rebecca, who had become the youngest female Sergeant at 23, could deviate from her patrol path without alerting the tracking device in her ballistic vest.  
She was relieved to find that the secluded spot set up amongst the haphazardly managed storage level 7-C had still not been found by Vault Commissary Services. As always, Rogers needed help climbing the wooden boxes, crates, and pallets. The chess table, flanked by two chairs, was three metres above the floor of the store room. On two sides were plywood boxes of instant meals that wouldn't be required for decades. Another was gallon drums of water.  
Out of sight of the nearest aisle, Rebecca removed her helmet again, as well as the black ballistic vest. The protective device, emblazoned with '101' in gold front and back, weighed almost 40 pounds. A section of frayed fabric under the left armpit had been annoying Rebecca for weeks, but she never thought it was enough to bring up with the Security Quartermaster. Steve noticed her relief at being free of it before her shift ended, the young woman rubbing her left side as she stretched and rotated each arm.  
Rogers was always interested to hear about Rebecca's work in the Security department. He asked about it during their first game.  
'Just the usual night Steve. A few drunk and disorderlies in the sector four canteen. Oh there was an interesting call from sec two'  
'Oh, tell me' he said gleefully.  
His positivity also stemmed from taking one of Rebecca's Rooks.  
'Well, interesting for us anyway. It was actually pretty grim. You ever met the Bryson's from Two?'  
'I think so. Two kids, husband has glasses, balding?'  
'That's them. So he's been smacking her around lately. Guy's a nasty piece of crap. Doesn't even have drink or chems to blame. She finally gets the courage to call us'  
'What did you do?'  
'It was me and Pepper Gomez, eighteen year old fresh recruit, that took the call. Let's just say that Donny Bryson tripped and fell a few times on his way to HQ and the cells'  
Rebecca's mischievous smile caused Steve's heart to swell. As always though, hearing about life in the security service brought a sadness to him.  
Five years prior, the young man took the same test as every other resident once they turn eighteen. The Generalised Occupational Aptitude Test was an extensive questionnaire that determined what role the denizens of 101 would carry out until mandatory retirement at sixty four. Steve was absolutely set on joining the security service like his father before him. In reality, the results of his test painted him as a model serviceman. His various physical ailments, from chronic fatigue to heart arythmia, swiftly torpedoed his dream. Steve was turned away the moment Vault 101's chief physician, Thomas Rumlow, arrived for the screening process. The crushing moment in the Doctor's office never faded. He was assigned to a data logging job in the Vault administration centre. The outcome of the GOAT had another cruel twist. Vault 101 had a strict system in which relationships were decided by algorithms fed by data from the tests. Despite failing to achieve his goals, Rogers was matched with someone of similar age with similar results. This person was Brooke Rumlow, the head doctor's daughter.  
A year after, his childhood friend Rebecca took the very same test and triumphed where he failed. He always knew how much she had subdued her relief for his well-being. Not only did he have to watch his best friend thrive in the career he sought, but he was expected to fall in love with one as well.  
Owing to their talk of Rebecca's night, the two were left with only time for a single game which ended in a stalemate. After checking and double checking that neither could move further, the dim lights flickered to their daybreaking brilliance.  
'Come on Rogers, Brooke will be back from her duty soon. You need to go play house and I need to go to bed'  
Steve declined help in getting back to the ground. For his stubbornness, he landed heavily from the last crate and injured the weak cartilage in his left knee. Further tenacity had him doing his damnedest to ignore the burning joint as he walked. On the fourth floor of sector eight, where Steve's residence was found, the two parted ways. Rebecca looked to either end of the hallway, then surprised Steve with a kiss on the cheek. His face flushed red, eyes locked onto hers. For a few seconds she held her head close to his, both of their hearts quickening.  
The moment was shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps. Rogers cleared his throat and turned away as Rebecca fidgeted with the chinstrap after replacing her helmet. Their parting words were swift and awkward. Naturally, the trio of passing vault engineers paid them no heed.  
As an arranged pairing, Steve and Brooke had marginally better living quarters. The spartan bedroom, bathroom, and living room was a step above the cramped dormitories inhabited by those not in relationships. To his surprise, the Rumlow girl was home before him. Steve stepped into the bedroom with the intention of lying in bed for her return, only to be startled by her presence. Her vault suit was tied at the waist, raven hair falling free over her grey vest. Brooke turned at the sound of the door rising.  
'Oh hey, couldn't sleep?' she asked.  
'No. Just went for a wander. How was the night?'  
'Same old shit. You want to eat before you go?'  
They ate in the nearest canteen, only two corridors over. Brooke's silence stemmed from exhaustion, whereas Steve was only thinking of Rebecca. Only before she departed did Brooke talk to her partner.  
'Remember your appointment with my dad later on. Says he's got results from a few of those tests'  
The way she spoke barely denoted the importance of the meeting Steve had with Thomas. Fact of the matter was, Brooke just didn't care. He knew this and simply nodded at the reminder.  
Thomas Rumlow spent his day mulling over the forthcoming meeting with Rogers. He had never sugar coated the difficulties the young man faced, but that wasn't what he rued about their appointments. Steve's positivity through it all was disarming. He would see the upside in everything. Today, there would not be an upside. When the young man arrived at Thomas's surgery, he made small talk by noticing his limp.  
'Good afternoon Steve, have you hurt yourself?'  
'Oh, the leg? Just landed on it funny earlier. It's nothing'  
Steve's hand was enveloped by Rumlow's, who made effort to not apply the usual pressure as they shook.  
'Take a seat. Would you like a glass of water?'  
'No thank you sir, I'm good. So, give it to me straight Doc'  
Rumlow found himself skirting around the most vital part of Steve's results. Just as he was about to, the door behind them opened.  
'Becky? Uh... Rebecca. What are you doing here?' Rogers asked the newcomer.  
She was barefoot in just the blue jumpsuit, looking like she'd just woken up.  
'Ms Barnes, I wasn't expecting you'  
'I know. I'm here for Steve' she said sternly, piercing eyes gazing at the doctor.  
'For me? Why?'  
'Guess you haven't told him yet. You'd think the doc would let you be the first to know. Oh no. I had to overhear Brooke gabbing about it in the women's restroom'  
Thomas pursed his lips, avoiding the gaze of the woman as she pulled a chair next to Steve.  
'Tell him Thomas'  
'Very well. I'm sorry Steve. With your heart condition and weak immune system, we're looking at six to seven months at most'  
Rebecca gripped Steve's hand, her jaw clenching. She felt her cheeks burning, blinking to clear her vision. A tear stung her flushed face.  
'Steve... I. Ah shit' she uttered.  
The young man didn't react, save for balling his fingers to tight fists in his lap. His mouth would open for a half second then close again.  
'But that's not...you know, one hundred percent right. I mean, these things go wrong sometimes?'  
He said with his usual optimism.  
Thomas shook his head lightly.  
'I'm sorry Steve. There's nothing more I can do for you. I only meant to soften the blow for Brooke. I didn't know she would take it the way she did'  
Only then did the doctor notice the obvious. His daughter's apparent callousness against Rebecca's open grief.  
When Brooke and Steve were first paired years ago, Thomas thought it was an odd choice. Rogers and Barnes were inseparable as children and teenagers. He put his doubts aside, having faith in the Vault system that had made so many successful matches in the shelter's long history. His daughter had her fair share of dark moments, but gossiping about her partner's terminal illness? That was a new low. Thomas couldn't find the words to stop Rogers getting up and leaving. Rebecca's light fingers slipped from his shoulder to his hand as he went.  
'Steve. Please. Wait'  
'I need to be alone' he sighed.  
She let him go and sank into her chair, letting the fatigue from her interrupted sleep wash over her. When the doctor spoke, her sadness ignited into anger.  
'I'm sorry Rebecca, but I have other-'  
'Like hell you are Rumlow!' she snapped. 'I guess being cold hearted runs in the family huh?'  
'Now, be reasonable Ms Barnes'  
She got up, pushing the chair back and slamming a fist on the wooden desk.  
'Be reasonable? Be. Goddamn. Reasonable. Can you hear yourself? You just told man that his life will end in half a year. He's been the kindest, most gentle and caring person in this glorified bunker. Do you know how much it takes for him to go through every day with all that he has going on?'  
Thomas removed his glasses and rubbed them on his white coat.  
'You have my deepest sympathies, but I don't see what else I was supposed to do Ms Barnes'  
'Anything. Everything. You have nothing to lose and Steve has everything to gain'  
When Thomas remained still and silent, the young woman cursed under her breath and left the surgery.  
'Wait, Rebecca' the doctor called after short but intense internal deliberation. She turned.  
'Come back, close the door, and keep your voice down'  
Rebecca did as instructed. Clicking the lock lightly into place.  
'What, you've got some miracle cure you've been sitting on all this time?'  
'Not exactly. What I'm proposing involves monumental risk to Steve'  
'The alternative is a drawn out death Thomas'  
'It could also put us in jeopardy, as well as our place in this Vault'  
'What do you mean?'  
'The procedure that could save him would…' Thomas trailed off.  
'Would what?'  
'It could expose the truth of the world outside Vault 101'  
Rebecca sat in contemplative silence.  
'Well you've already done too much by saying that to me. Floodgate is open Doc. Nothing goes beyond this room though. What's outside?'  
'Life. Society is slowly rebuilding. It's fraught with danger. The radiation that the Overseer claims to protect us from is a grim reality. It has twisted the flora and fauna into monstrous abominations. Not all people want order to return to humanity, only sowing chaos and death'  
'Why do you know this Thomas?'  
'Because it's where I'm from'  
The sheer absence of thought in Rebecca's mind lingered after what Thomas said. Her eyes remained fixed, unblinking, on his. It was like somebody had reset her head, like a computer taking a moment to boot up.  
'You're from outside' she uttered, feeling like a fool.  
'Yes. Brooke is as well, not that she's aware. She was born outside of the Vault, and I needed somewhere safe to raise her. The previous Overseer was less stringent about the isolation, and my expertise as a physician was needed'  
'So what is outside? Where are we really?'  
'About ten miles north west of Washington DC. It was the centre of government for America before the bombs fell, so got hit extremely hard'  
'And this supposed cure for Steve?'  
'Its an experimental serum, originally created before the world ended to make soldiers stronger, tougher and faster. There's a chance it would heal all of his ailments in one swoop'  
'And the risk?' Rebecca asked.  
'He could become a monster, hulking and wracked with psychotic rage. If that happens, I fear for the lives of everyone in this Vault'  
Rebecca looked down at the desk for a few moments, aware that the doctor's eyes were still on her.  
'Only he can make this decision Thomas'  
'Agreed'  
She pulled the 10mm pistol from the leather holster on her belt, placing the heavy firearm before her.  
'If he says yes, the moment it starts to go...the second way, I'll end it myself'


	3. Moonbeam Drive-in Theatre - 28th October 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Wilson's introduction

The air was still. Sky clear of cloud and full of stars. Ideal conditions for the lone woman moving slowly and methodically through the rows of automobiles. The moon helped her avoid obstacles and spot threats outside. Only when she clambered into vehicles she deemed intact enough did she flick on her small torch.  
'I wonder how many other dumbasses have crawled in here since an actual driver?' she mused aloud.  
Her voice barely carried out of the decrepit vehicle, despite the silence. With the LED device between her teeth she wriggled under the driver side steering column, feet up on the headrest.  
'Fuckin' bingo' she hissed.  
The vehicle component she meticulously separated looked like a metal and plastic cylinder with a rectangular slot on one end. Despite the outward simplicity, the part was incredibly valuable and sought after. She slid it inside a leather pouch along with three others found earlier in the night.  
The woman took a moment to gaze skyward once outside. Her breath slowed, shoulders relaxed, forgetting the tension felt when she first arrived at the drive-in. Ghouls had been sighted here by a recent patrol, but they seemed to have moved on. The stillness and quiet was enthralling. Whether it was the clamour of her sister's home, or the deafening chorus of battle, she usually found herself overwhelmed by noise. The mission was forgotten. For a few minutes she could relax. Retracing the route through the wrecks, a parked convertible was found, where the second component was recovered. When her gloved hand gripped the dirt encrusted door handle she cursed under her breath.  
The radio communicator on her hip buzzed. Spinning to lean against the silver and rust brown vehicle, the receiver was brought to her lips.  
'Go ahead Gus'  
'For the umpteenth time Wilson, we go by last names. Full ones' came the fuzzy reply.  
'Umpteenth? Now you're making up words Gustavo. What do you want?'  
'Checking in. You've been gone some time. Did you walk to the drive in?'  
'No but this place is bearing major fucking fruit. I have four fusion ignitions'  
'Great. Don't get greedy. You coming back alive is the priority'  
'Aw, Gustavo, are you getting fond of me?'  
'Pull the other one Samantha. I get enough grief from your sister every time you're on mission. She'd bite my head off if anything happened to you'  
She laughed at both the visual image and Gustavo forgetting his own rule by using her first name.  
'I'll be back in a few ticks Chief. I'd say tell Kathryn not to wait up but I'll probably find her first'  
'Roger that. Safe journey Wilson'  
The thirty foot high screen was missing some of the large steel sheets that made the projection surface. The ladder to the top was still intact, as was the gantry that ran the length of the thin edifice. The climb was unnecessary, but Samantha made it anyway. Any excuse she had to experience solitude a little more. Her paces as she crossed the top of the moonlit walkway felt longer, her breaths drawn out and filled her ears. Samantha's heart hammered just like the first time. Anticipation made her giddy, forcing her to clench a fist just to avoid shaking. At the precipice, the railings were broken, twisted metal ends sharp and glinting in silver light. The way off was clear.  
She stood rigid, letting out a final certain breath before taking ten paces back. Her thumb slid under the composite straps of the harness across her chest and waist, checking they were still tight.  
'Okay. Let's fucking do this'  
A button pressed on her hip lit up three small red lights on her harness. The compact boxy backpack whirred into life, unfolding downward thrust vents. The walkway behind her was bathed in warm orange light emanating from her. In the first step forward, red framed dark goggles were pulled over her eyes. Then she was running. Barely three metres separated Samantha and a dark abyss. Her last footfall touched half on the metal lip. Her heart leapt. If the fall didn't kill her, broken limbs would leave her a feast for creatures that come out at night. Nothing stood between her and the unyielding rocky ground. Still in a horizontal dive, Samantha yanked a ripcord from her chest. The backpack bucked, the feeling still a welcome relief. From the box, overlapping plastic membranous wings deployed along metal spokes. On the corners of her goggles, three different numbers began to rapidly count. Indicated air speed, altitude, and distance to the ground she was looking at. She could breath now, knowing that the Falcon exosuit worked just as it had on the trip here two hours ago. Minor muscle movements in her shoulders controlled the wings, making her twirl and dance through the night. As always, her flight back to Gustavo at the tower took all manner of detours. A dial on her goggles turned on, showing her topography of the land as well as any buildings, trees, or rock formations that littered the wastes. After a few minutes zipping around the ruined town of Warrington, Samantha finally felt the chill of the night through her flight suit. It was time to go home.  
Tenpenny Tower poked above the horizon, only just visible from the ghost town. Bright lights lit up it's white limestone elegance, seen from miles around. It existed as a monument to wealth and excess. The true name of the building was long lost. Now a reclusive rich benefactor had given his own name to it, drawing on a vast fortune to pay a security force to protect the residents. A rudimentary ringwall surrounded the base, made of concrete pieces ripped from nearby ruins.  
Chief Myles Gustavo stood in the floodlight courtyard, itself a strange mix of statues, fountains, sandbag bunkers and gun lockers. The two night watchmen had reassured him they'd keep a lookout for Samantha's return, but he insisted on waiting. Gustavo shunned a seat at the ornate metal table where the armed pair sat, choosing to stand.  
As he expected, she refused to land in the courtyard as ordered. Gustavo heard the road of her engines, then a small cluster of red lights raced across his view, coming to an abrupt stop on a balcony on the fifteenth floor.  
'Mission parameters second. Family first' he whispered to himself.  
Smiling, he headed back inside the double doors. The grandiose entrance to Tenpenny Tower flanked by chipped columns.  
Unseen to Gustavo, Samantha shut off the thrusters and feathered wings seconds before her feet caught the smog blackened stonework of her sister's balcony. She noticed that the lights were on as far away as Warrington, deciding then that the Chief could wait. The yellow glow through heavy curtains offered promise of much needed warmth.  
'Seriously Kath?' she sighed, realising the door was locked. 'Thirty metres up and you still think someone's gonna break in...well you're right'  
Samantha crouched, sliding a hairpin from her head and a screwdriver from her waist. An unwanted 'clink' from the screwhead hitting metal released another curse from her mouth.   
'You left the key in the damn door too'  
Reluctant, she stood straight, made a feeble effort to neaten the hair released by the pin, and knocked three times on the glass paned door.  
On the opposite side, Kathryn Wilson pulled back the curtain to the darkness and unexpected noise. With her husband absent, her first reaction was always to reach for the gun. He spent enough time cleaning and polishing the ornately engraved gold Desert Eagle, leaving it on the mantlepiece where it caught the eye of any visitors. Kathryn saw only her reflection in the glass, her features perfectly mirrored in her sister's face. In the brief seconds, they became mismatched dopplegangers. Kathryn's pink silk nightgown overlaid on Samantha's black and red flight ensemble.  
With frantic excitement she turned the key, accidentally throwing the whole set on the floor in the rush to let her sister in. Samantha didn't have time to scold Kathryn for staying up before the sibling seized her.  
'Oh thank God you're back, I've been. Oh you're freezing! Let me run you a bath' she fretted.  
Samantha pried herself free of the embrace.  
'Are you going to do this every time I go outside?'  
The sister draped in eveningwear lay down on the chaise lounge close to the door.  
'Of course not Sam. Just when you use that silly bird costume'  
Reminded that it was still on her back, Samantha loosened several straps and placed the deceptive looking box on an oak table.  
'Ha. Bird costume. Nice one. Original'  
'Well I'm never going to remember the proper designation am I?'  
'E-X-O-7 Falcon sis. Easy peasy. I'll have a bath, but seriously, you can go to sleep now'  
Kathryn sighed, the smile on her face barely enough to show her relief at her sister's return, then went to run the tap in the suite's lavish bathroom. When Samantha entered the washroom, the warmth and steam from the opulent, gold trimmed tub, slowly began to penetrate the bone-deep cold through her body. A blue robe similar to her sister's was left on a chair along with freshly laundered towels. She turned over a corner on the thick fabric, then scoffed at the gold monogrammed 'TT'. The decadence abound in the tower annoyed her to no end. It was only the bottomless treasury that Security Chief Gustavo could pay her from that kept her here. And her sister, of course, who hadn't set foot beyond the walls in several years.  
Those years played on Samantha's mind as she submerged herself in hot water and Crystal white bubbles. With ears under the surface, she couldn't hear how loud she was talking to herself.  
'I wonder who risked their life to recover this bubble bath Gus?'  
One condition of Samantha offering her services as a scavenger on Tenpenny Tower's payroll was essentials only. She would happily go to find items like the fusion ignitions, portable power cores, and basic rationable food. Her eyes closed, letting the insulating water close off the world around her. It was, admittedly, more relaxing to meditate like this rather than stood out in the open on a cold autumn night. Less pretty to look at though. The stars were captivating, helping Samantha calm her mind. The downside was how well sound travelled through the floor and into the water she bathed in. The knock at the door was tentative, but rang in her ears like a drum. Samantha pushed herself up, annoyed at the interruption.  
'Kath?' she called, an edge of irritation slipping out.  
Kathryn sat outside the bathroom with her back to the door.  
'Isi? Sorry. I called a few times. Thought you'd fallen asleep'  
'No that's you that should be asleep. What's up?'  
'I just want to know about your trip. Did it go smoothly?'  
Samantha's shoulders dropped, a smile creeping across her face. The mild annoyance at her sister's badgering evaporated with the steam around her.  
'Yeah it went well. You didn't chase Gustavo down this time?'  
'No I was good. I'm getting better. I'm happy you have your wings really. They keep you safe'  
Kathryn knew where her sibling's mission had taken her, but asked anyway.  
'The Moonbeam Drive-in' Samantha replied, picking up a handful of bubbles and blowing them. 'Its on that hilltop just to the South east'  
'I think I've seen it on a clear day from the rooftop Sam. Wasn't it dangerous?'  
'Not really. I think it's a ghoul nest or something, but they go out to hunt at night'  
'Eww ghouls! I saw a picture of one once. It was disgusting'   
'They look gross but are harmless unless you get big groups. They aren't all feral either. Some are still just normal people'  
'Yeah but not really. Not with their skin all burned and eugh'  
'Kathryn if your skin was burned you'd still be my sister. I know some sentient Ghouls. They're far better humans than some of the assholes in this tower'  
'I guess. You're better around different people than me. I would be too if I was brave enough to leave Tenpenny'  
'You will one day sis. I know it'  
'Thanks Sam. You don't mind if I turn in now? There's fresh pillows and blankets on the sofa for you'  
'Goodnight Kathryn'  
Samantha found herself missing her sister's voice for the remainder of her bath. Once out and dried, fatigue set in, giving her limbs an unnatural weight. Lying down on the long sofa was a massive relief, only for the closed curtains to annoy her enough to get back up. The only part of Kathryn's suite she actually liked was the abundance of glass in the exterior wall. It was the only place she could safely stargaze until she fell asleep. In the corner of her vision, the faint white glow from urban DC was visible if she looked hard enough.  
'If only the Brotherhood's influence spread as far as their illuminations' Her father had said back when he still lived in the tower.  
Samantha's thoughts lingered on her mother and father in the last fleeting seconds of consciousness. Canterbury Commons was a good town, despite its proximity to North DC. It didn't have the fortifications of Tenpenny, or the armed forces of River City. What it did have was a tough son of a bitch called Martin Wilson. Everyone in the tower thought he'd gone nuts. A gourmet chef deciding to hang up his whites at fifty two to become a small town guardsman. Her father's face, as she'd last seen it eighteen months ago, flickered in her head as sleep took hold.


	4. Tenpenny Tower suite 1503 - 29th October 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a loner isn't all its cracked up to be

Samantha stirred to the sound of clinking cutlery and cupboards closing. At 10am, her brother-in-law felt no need to stay quiet for the visitor crashed on the couch. She sat up, ruffling hair from her eyes and blinking until the man in the kitchen area became clearly visible. Francis Carter was the thirty year old executive accountant to Alistair Tenpenny himself. Samantha's protective nature towards her sister always butted heads with the fact that Francis was a genuinely nice person and a loving husband. It led to an amiable animosity between the two of them, which Francis always found amusing.  
'Careful Sam, if you spend more than twenty four hours here, you'll be mistaken for a resident'  
He was one of four people permitted to call her by the abbreviation. 'The sole perk of marrying my sister' as she'd put it. Samantha cursed under her breath at the sight of daylight outside. She'd planned to leave at first light.  
'Maybe I've had a change of heart. There's plenty of room for one more here right? Or like twenty more' she bit back.  
Francis chuckled, the sound quickly drowned out by the kettle whistling on the stove. The man pulled three mugs from a high cupboard.  
'How many sugars?' he asked.  
'I'm not staying that long'  
'You have time for one cup of coffee. Kathryn will be at least another half hour to sort her hair out'  
Samantha relented, lying back on the sofa and throwing up two fingers. The immaculate white ceramic mug was accepted with a curt nod, then Samantha walked out to the balcony, barefoot and in pyjamas, to gaze at her true home. The ash grey hills, blasted skeletal trees like dead hands clawing at the sky. In the clear of day she could just make out the spire of the Washington monument far to the east. She used the giant spike to estimate where Canterbury Commons stood, beyond the jagged ruins of west DC.  
Closer to her was a raised highway that followed the line of a ridge. She remembered that the road passed near Megaton, that strange pile of scrap metal that somehow endured to become a thriving city. Maybe it would be her next stop. She had the money for a night or two in the saloon, plenty of time to find odd jobs or bounties.  
The sound of the door opening behind her registered on her mind, but Kathryn's hand grasping hers still came as a surprise.  
'Morning Sam! You already planning the next move?'  
'Hey Kath' she blew into the mug and took a careful sip. 'Yes, I was thinking east, to Megaton'  
Without another word, Kathryn stood flat against her sister's back and wrapped arms around her waist. Unknown to Samantha, tears were welling up. A sniff and a sigh gave away Kathryn's feelings.  
'You don't have to worry about me sis. Megaton is well protected'  
'Its not so much worrying about you. I'm just going to miss you'  
Samantha felt an unusual stab of tightness in her chest. Her face flushed as she gripped her sister's arm.  
'I'll miss you too. I always do. Next time I visit it will be just for you. No jobs or work. You can take me to one of those fancy dinner parties you guys always have here'  
She knew straight away how much it would mean to Kathryn. The denizens of Tenpenny regularly held lavish evenings of three course meals, drinks, and dancing. All the things Samantha balked at. It never stopped Kathryn trying to get her involved whenever she was around.  
Her grip on the coffee tightened when Kathryn spun her around to look her in the eyes.  
'You're serious? You'll really do that?'  
'Yes. I promise. I'll go one step further and say I'll stay with you for a whole week'  
The words slipped out of her mouth without her mind's permission. A fleeting pulse of regret was swept aside by the sheer joy in Kathryn's face. She took a moment to restrain the excitement, trying to hold herself together to make a vow in return.  
'While you're staying here-' Kathryn stopped a moment to breath deeply, the rollercoaster of emotion almost overwhelming. 'While you're here that week I will come with you on an adventure. As in, out of the Tower'  
'Kath, you don't-'  
'I mean it. It's no secret that you hate all the pricks in this building, and I agree about some of them. I want to do something for you in return. You can teach me to hunt or something'  
Kathryn couldn't remember the last time her sister hugged her first. She was glad she hadn't fixed her make-up for the day, as tears of happiness continued to flow.


	5. Vault 101 - 3rd November 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape! quest from FO3. Rumlow meets a changeable face, welcome to Megaton.

Amata Almodovar pushed past her father and out of his office. She'd heard enough of his conversation with security chief Allen Mack. Brooke was in danger. As she sat in his office, the Overseer assumed he had privacy in the corridor outside.  
'No I don't know how he managed to override the door control. He must have had help with security clearance'  
'Jonas didn't know anything about it. If he did, it died with him'  
'You say two others left with him?'  
'A VSO, Rebecca Barnes. Facial recognition in the entry hall detected one of the desk monkeys too. Steve Rogers'  
'Rogers? Son of a… Rumlow declared him dead a week ago, how is that possible?'  
'I don't know. We'll find the girl. She'll talk'  
Amata heard it all with her ear to the metal door, then decided to act. Her father, Alphonse, was shocked by her appearance, barely managing to call her name once she was clear of the two men and racing towards sector 8. As she ducked and weaved through Vault residents going about their morning routines, she noticed none of the security officers paying her any heed. Good. It meant her father hadn't put an alert out for her yet.  
In the sector 7 atrium, the alarm sounded. She remembered from emergency training that it was a Vault-wide alert. The bright fluorescent lights flickered out, followed immediately by pulsing red beacons above each doorway and corridor. This wasn't a drill. The crowds of people in the tall wide room knew it. As the daughter of the Overseer, many eyes turned to her in the darkness.  
'God damn it' she cursed. 'Everyone stay calm, remember the procedures. Return to your residences in a calm and orderly fashion'  
In the corner of the atrium she spied two security officers, the visors on their riot helmets pulled down and batons in hand. They saw her. Right away it was clear they were after her. Amata kept low, using the darkness and milling crowds to lose the pursuers.  
'Sector 8. Finally'  
Brooke's apartment that she shared with Steve was near to the access point to 7. Relief stirred in Amata when she saw her friend was there. Normal white lights remained on in her home, visible through the closed blinds. The raven haired woman was surprised to see the Overseer's daughter, fraught and out of breath, barge into her living room.  
'Amata… um hi? Do you want to knock?'  
'Brooke get up, you don't have time'  
Brooke sat still, wide eyed. Only with Amata pulling her arm brought the woman to her feet.  
'What the hell is going on? What's the alarm about?'  
'I don't know. When did you last see your Dad?'  
'Last night. Why?'  
'Brooke, he's gone. He left the Vault'  
'He what?'  
'He escaped the Vault. I think Steve went with him'  
'Steve's dead. Are you insane? What's the alarm about? Amata slow down'  
'My father is sending people to find out what you know. They already questioned Jonas'  
'What did he tell them?'  
'Nothing. So they killed him. Brooke you have to leave'  
Brooke planted her feet, stopping the woman trying to pull her to move.  
'Wait, how long do I have? Were you followed here?'  
'No I lost them in the. Wait-'  
Brooke pulled her body armor and helmet from the mannequin in the corner of the room as Amata switched off the lights. In the blinds, the intermittent red lights flashed outside. By the closed door, Amata couldn't see the silhouettes of security officers stacking up outside.  
'Amata, down!' Brooke screamed.  
She did so as the metal door rose up. Time slowed for Brooke, watching the two men become visible. Black boots, dark greaves over the blue jumpsuits. When the door passed their knees she spied their sidearms held at the floor and pulled her own 10mm pistol. Amata wailed as four shots in half as many seconds flew over her. One in the chest of each Security Officer to throw them off balance, then another punched through their toughed plastic visors.  
'You better be right about my father leaving Amata. I'm dead if I stay. Get me to the door!'  
Amata remained crouched, eyes fixed on the dead men. Her voice, already wracked from screaming, was reduced to a hoarse cry.  
'What have you done?' she sobbed.  
'If they killed Jonas, they'd kill me. Get me to the door, and stay close'  
Unknown to the two women, the sector around them was descending into chaos. The alarm had been triggered by a breach between the Vault walls and the cave system in which it nestled. Monstrous insects, mutated to the size of dogs by radiation, were running unchecked in the reactor level. The panicked reaction of the Vault citizens to the alarm made an organised response from the security teams difficult, on top of the Overseer insisting on ignoring the danger in favor of hunting down anyone related to Thomas Rumlow.  
Brooke hurriedly threw a spare vault suit, full water bottle, first aid kit, and a handful of nutribars into a pouch which affixed to her body armor. It was her turn to pull Amata to stand.  
'Look at me Amata. You have to do exactly as I say or I will die. Okay?'  
'Alright' she sniffed, avoiding Brooke's gaze.  
'Good. Now. Take me to your father's office. Stay right in front of me'  
'But the door is-'  
'Move! I only have seven rounds left'  
Brooke became suspicious when the corridors they moved down became completely clear of anyone. Rounding a corner near the canteen showed her why. A woman she recognised as Jane Hartley lay dead against the wall. At her feet were three huge ants. Amata recoiled in horror, knocking into Brooke. One of the insects was pulling at the corpse's exposed intestines. Brooke seized the hysterical Amata in one arm, pulling her aside to line up three shots into each bug's head. The orange goo that spilled from each smoking hole threatened to bring up her breakfast but she pushed on.  
'Keep it together Amata. Four bullets. I have to make them count'  
The Overseer's daughter held her back flat to the wall and eyes on the mauled corpse as the pair moved down the hall. The presence of the ants kept the rest of the route to Almodovar's office clear. Once inside, Amata moved to the wide circular window that overlooked the atrium of sector 1. Brooke brought the steel door down and shot the control panel.  
'What are you doing? Now we're trapped!' Amata yelled.  
'No we aren't. I've spent enough time idly looking over the floor plans to this damn Vault. Something doesn't add up. In this room there's access to a tunnel leading right to the entrance hall. You're gonna find it'  
'Me?'  
'Yes'  
Amata was ushered to the chair in the middle of the Overseer's massive round desk. In it's centre was a computer terminal.  
'If anyone's gonna know his password, it's you'  
Brooke left her to try to access the machine, wandering over to the window. Bodies littered the open space.  
'Something's wrong…' she whispered. 'Ants don't line people up before killing them'  
'What did you say?' Amata asked, peering over the screen.  
'I said I think more people have been killed by security than bugs'  
The woman at the computer didn't respond, only trying one more guess before succeeding.  
'I did it! I'm in!'  
She was immediately wheeled out of the way before touching the keys again. Brooke frantically scanned over anything remotely related to an escape.  
'Jesus Christ your dad is an idiot. It's literally listed under 'secret escape route'  
She double clicked on the link. Both women had to hastily step away as the desk began to move. The floor where the wheeled chair sat retracted, causing the upholstered furniture piece to plummet several feet down a newly exposed stairwell.  
'After you Amata'  
The tunnel was damp and poorly maintained, with only the occasional light working. Two manually operated doors were encountered in thirty feet of straight, bare concrete. At the end of it, Brooke looked at her wrist device to find out where they were.  
'Okay, behind this bulkhead should be the entrance hall'  
'What if my dad and his goons are there?'  
'Thats what I'm counting on Amata. Go ahead'  
The entrance to the Vault was usually quiet, owing to nobody ever coming in or going out. Alphonse stood with Allen Mack and two guardsmen, scrolling back through camera footage from the time of Thomas's escape. A mechanical hiss and rumble to their left caused three weapons to be pointed at the hidden doorway when it opened. Amata stepped forward slowly, the barrel of Brooke's gun held to her temple.  
'Amata! What on Earth? Who is that?' the Overseer fretted.  
'Drop the guns, all of you' Brooke barked.  
She stayed directly behind Amata, giving the guards no line of sight to her.  
'Mack! Do as she says. Oh good heavens. Amata, it's going to be okay'  
'Wait, eject the mags first. That's it. Nice and easy. Pull back the slides. Right now throw the guns one way and the mags the other. Do it!'  
The three security officers followed instructions.   
'Overseer. Open the door. I'm leaving'  
Hands trembling, Alphonse pulled the plain key from his pocket. Turning it a full rotation clockwise and three counter began a deep rumbling that Brooke felt through the floor. A large drill-like machine lowered slowly from the ceiling, connecting to the centre of the massive round cog that stood between Brooke and the outside world.  
'Warning. Vault access system activated. Please stand back' a recorded voice announced.  
As the ten tonnes of composite steel, ceramic, and lead rolled aside, Amata leant back to whisper in Brooke's ear.  
'You could have warned me I was gonna be your hostage'  
'I had to sell it properly. If you were in on this from the start, your dad could have called my bluff'  
The two women began to edge along the side of the room towards the entrance, Amata's feet stumbling occasionally. Allen Mack's face was twisted with impotent anger, but Brooke kept her eyes on him. At the round opening, the pair felt a strange breeze blowing in from the gloomy cave shaft beyond.  
'Alright now close it'  
She measured the time taken for the door to slowly roll back into place, waiting for the last moment to slip through. When the screw connected to the cog once more, the face of Jonas flashed across her mind. A fast swelling rage swept up from her stomach. In a heartbeat, her pistol moved away from Amata's head. She blinked. Fingers squeezed. The anger on Chief Mack's face turned to surprise, then his knees buckled.  
'I'm sorry' Brooke mouthed.  
She knew Amata wouldn't hear it before the woman was kicked forwards. She fell clear of the door, hands holding her ears tight after the gunshot. The two guards raced to grab their weapons but it was too late. The last sliver of light from the door was snuffed out, plunging Brooke into alien darkness. Machinery from the door mechanism rumbled for a few seconds longer, then all she could hear were her own frantic breaths. Sweat covered her exposed skin quickly turning cold. Frozen in silent darkness she tried to formulate a plan but thoughts in her mind wouldn't materialise.  
'Oh no. What have I done?'  
Under cold sweat her face began to flush hot. Tears welled and stung her eyes, before anger at her weakness made her blink them clear.  
'Think God damn you'  
Something lit up the cave wall to her left. A dim green glow. Her Pipboy wrist computer had become active, playing a simple tune. A fuzzy voice emanated, quickly clearing to that of a cheerful man.  
'Congratulations Vault resident, you have successfully activated the surface excursion lifesaving functions, or SELF. A biomedical diagnostic is currently being run. Please remain calm'  
Brooke laughed. She couldn't help herself.  
'Yeah you electrical piece of shit I'll remain ca-Ouch!'  
She felt a sharp scratch on her wrist underneath the Pipboy.  
'Apologies madam. Your blood will be periodically be tested as part of the health monitoring system'  
'Great. Do I have anything life threatening?'  
'One moment...no. You are the picture of good health and ready to take on the world above!'  
'Are you going to help me?'  
The device fell silent, the light of the screen flicking off.  
'Hello? Great. All that shit was automated'  
She turned the screen on herself to find new information tabs available. INVENTORY, MAP, RADIO, and STATS. The third one had a cartoon Vault girl with her name displayed underneath. A green cross implied she had no current medical concerns.  
'Wait, how do you know my blood pressure, BMI, fitness level...sexual activity?! This is gross'  
Once again she winced at herself standing in the dark taking to a silent computer on her wrist.  
The inventory tab had somehow scanned the contents of the supply pouch on her waist. Other items came up that worried her further.  
'You know what's in my pockets. This shit is just weird' Brooke whispered.  
The MAP tab had two subsettings. The first was local, showing her position within the narrow cave shaft. Behind a flat door was the layout of the Vault. A rangefinder showed distances to nearby obstacles, and altered according to how far out her map was zoomed one hundred metres away was a second doorway that lead, she presumed, to the outside world. The second map tab displayed her location in the entire region. It dawned on her that she had not once considered where the Vault was even located. A single marker was visible on top of her location.  
'Vault 101' she sighed. 'Its all well and good telling me where I am and nothing else'  
It was hard to find the torch button on the back of her Pipboy with the screen filling her vision. White light lit up the dark stones. It was time for her to move. The doorway came into view after a few seconds. A drab bare metal wall filled the cave mouth around the corrugated shutter. Brooke found her heart quickening with each step towards the surface. Her mouth dried. In her anxious state she took far too many gulps from the bottle from her pack. Barely half remained.  
'Ah shit. No water, three bullets, food for about two days at a stretch. If my Dad can leave here without so much of a peep there must be something or someone out here waiting. He wouldn't go out to die'  
To the left of the shutter was a looped chain. She gripped it in one hand and pulled. It moved. The base of the shutter crept up, spilling a new kind of light on her boots. Startled, she tugged it the other way, banishing daylight in a panic. Her head fell against the metal that stood between her and an uncertain future, teeth clenched tight. Her breath became laboured again as fear rose. Nagging thoughts began to swirl. Go back inside. Almodovar will forgive you. He'll kill you, at least it's a certainty. Your father is dead out there and you will be too. Her gloved fist hammered against the shutter, sending ripples through the segments and a deafening echo down the tunnel.  
'Hello?'  
Brooke pushed away from the wall, falling to the ground at the sound of the voice. It was a woman. Someone is alive out there, she thought. Still, her hand refused to pull the chain and mouth wouldn't speak.  
'Is someone in there?'  
It was another human. Tendrils of fear and excitement crept to all of Brooke's body. This is it. Proof that Vault 101 was a lie. All she had to do was reply.  
'Yes. I'm in here. Who are you?' she blurted out, voice trembling.  
'My name is Karina. I was travelling by when I heard a clamour from up here. Are you another Vault resident?'  
'I'm Brooke. Did you see my Dad? He came out here before me'  
'I did not. It was just the rumour going around the nearest town'  
Brooke sighed with relief.   
'Where is the closest settlement? Is it far?'  
'Megaton is two miles to the South East. It is not far and I could take you there'  
Debate raged in Brooke's head. A total stranger is offering her help. She could be robbed and killed immediately, or the town could not exist. Despite the panic in her mind, her body acted anyway.  
'Okay, I'm coming out'  
She pulled the chain again, with a desperate fervour. Dust and light swept in like a ride, sweeping up her boots, legs, and body armour. The shutter crashed at the top of the pauldron. Brooke covered her eyes, the glare of the sun dazzling her.  
'Ouch. God damn that stings'  
The clear visor of her helmet did nothing to shield her, so it was unclipped and thrown to the floor. Slowly she blinked, opening her eyes gradually more each time. The dark silhouette of the woman stood before her, a halo of gold hair shimmered in the morning sun.  
'Hey there, you okay?'  
'Yeah, just never seen the sun before. Is it always that bright?'  
'Haha yes I'm afraid so. Here take these'  
Brooke reached out a probing hand, grasping the offered sunglasses. Confused, she put them on. Her vision darkened, finally allowing her to see the stranger. Black denim pants, a white shirt, and thick leather jacket. A brown strap across her chest part of a holster. Her hair was blonde, falling just above the shoulders.  
'Thanks'  
'Don't sweat it. They letting people in and out now blue?'  
'No. My father escaped without telling me last night and I fled in fear of my life. I guess you have a lot of questions'  
'Yeah, but this is hardly the place for it. Come on, let's get you to town'  
The cave mouth was recessed in a hillside. Brooke followed Karina to the top of the rise. She had to stop again once the land stretching east came into view. She assumed the cave opening sheltered her from noise. In truth, there was no sound but dirt and gravel crunching under her boots. Shuddering, her breath fled her body as she gazed at the devastation in every direction.  
'Wait' she stuttered.  
'Hmm?' Karina replied, turning. 'Oh, yeah. I guess this is quite the shock. It looks like shit but it's home to thousands'  
'Where? I can't see a single complete building. This is. This is hell'  
Brooke's eyes glazed over, looking blankly at the broken skyline, even as Karina took her hand and led her down the hillside. A fractured black asphalt road skirted greeted them leading north to a small dilapidated town. South it wound through hills to a gargantuan mound of scrap metal. The junk pile stood out amongst the landscape, with unrusted pieces still catching the sunlight.  
Brooke was confused further when Karina led her south.  
'But wait, the town?' she protested.  
'No chance. Springvale has a school crawling with Raiders. They leave the homes cleared and unlocked to bait travelers'  
'Raiders?'  
'Blanket term for thieves, murderers, junkies and bandits. Anyone who would rather steal from others instead of make things themselves'  
Brooke felt a strike of anger at the state of the world just outside the Vault.  
'And this place, Megaton, is a stone's throw from the Raiders? Why don't they just drive them away, or kill them?'  
Karina sighed, looking away as they walked. Her eyes followed the towering raised highway that sat atop the ridge. It was at that point, so soon after meeting another runaway from Vault 101, that she would not divulge her true name and identity to this one. Karina would be around for a little longer.  
'The Raiders aren't just petty gangs. They have their own societies. They have families, children. Civilised folks defend against them, nothing more. We won't become the same monsters that destroyed the earth two centuries ago'  
Brooke remained quiet for the rest of the walk. After an hour they left the road at a metal sign with the 'Megaton' carved out of it. Bullet holes of a variety of calibres peppered the sheet of rusted steel. The Vault outcast's shoulders dropped when it became apparent that the monolithic dome of junk was Megaton. To her it looked like a jagged egg, half sunk in the earth and cracked open at the top.  
'You have got to be kidding me. That thing must be half a mile wide' she said, flatly.  
'Here we are. Megaton. Central node of trade and habitation for the west bank of the Potomac river. If you need work, company, food, a bed for the night. This is the place'  
Karina was beaming. The town had become a favourite of hers in the five years since her profession brought her to the Capital. No two structures within the walls were alike, thrown together with whatever could be found. She remembered the background of the town from her briefing all those years ago. Megaton first began thirty years ago. A group of travelling merchants came across the wreck of a crashed nuclear bomber aircraft. The crash left a large hole in the earth, littered with the pieces of the B-36 'Peacemaker'. The name of the bomber always amused her. The travellers used the wreckage to build a basic wall around the crater. The lowest point bordered on an underground spring, meaning that a crashed warplane, on its way to kill thousands, ended up bringing the waters of life to thousands instead.   
Wings of a different plane now stood crossed over as the gates to Megaton. Above them was a centrally mounted single jet engine, serving as the means to open the wings. A perched sniper watched the two women approach. Within half a mile, Daniel 'Stockholm' Rickton recognised Karina through the scope on his M24 rifle. Karina knew he would be stationed there also. He always took the day shift.  
'Hey Stockholm. Fancy letting me and my new friend in?' she called once close enough.  
'Sure thing'  
He toyed with asking why a second Vault dweller had come to the surface after so many years. Maybe he'd catch up with the armoured woman in town later in the day. For now, he simply flicked the switch and pulled the ear defenders over his head.  
The metal floor of his crow's nest rumbled as the engine beneath roared into life. It was late in the morning for the first visitors of the day. He didn't remember being woken by the gates opening during the previous night when his twilight counterpart granted access to the old guy in the blue jumpsuit. That instance took a little longer too, with Sheriff Simms getting involved.  
As she walked under the opened airliner wings, Brooke was impressed by the ingenuity of the system. She was also taken by the long rifle held by the gate guard.  
'Are guns and ammo easy to come by?' she asked Karina.  
The woman laughed.  
'Way too easy. You'll be able to replace that peashooter on your hip in no time. I'll show you Craterside Supply. Moira gets a decent shipment from a gunsmith called SRP Armorers. She usually has odd jobs coming out her ears and pays pretty well'  
A secondary sheet metal gate rolled back, revealing the town to Brooke. She didn't know what to look at first. The ground at her feet descended steeply to the crater floor, with railway sleepers entrenched as steps. The three dimensional jumble of ragtag buildings followed no order. Some perched impossibly over others, held up by rickety scaffold clinging to near-vertical earth in places. Every railing was wrapped in twinkling lights, bringing illuminations to the shadow of the dome wall. Stores, hotels, and restaurants adorned themselves with garish neon signs.  
The pair walked down into the town slowly, Karina giving Brooke more time to take it all in. The cacophony and bustle of the town, coupled with dazzling lights, threatened to overwhelm the former vault dweller.  
'Okay. I can't handle this kind of mindfuck any more times today. This place is messing with my head'  
'Yup. Megaton is a bit of a trip. I guess after a life in a Vault, you'll do better somewhere like Rivet City' Karina said, then pointed at a low lying saloon. 'Here's a good haunt. Jenny will be starting lunch about now. Let me buy you your first Wasteland grub'  
Brooke let Karina take a step ahead of her before sighing and rolling her eyes.  
'Let me guess, you guys eat giant ants out here' she remarked.  
'Oh you know about ants already? The legs are good grilled'  
'Oh fuck me'  
Stahl's Diner was run by siblings Jenny and Andy. The latter covered food preparation while the former took orders and served drinks. Miss Stahl recognised Karina as soon as she pulled up a seat.  
'Karina! Great to see you again so soon. Oh...wow, are you a Vault dweller?' she chirped.  
Brooke finally removed her helmet, placing it under her seat.  
'Yep. Don't get too familiar with me. I'll probably be dead within days at the rate I'm going'  
Jenny laughed at the presumed humour.  
'Aw honey you look pretty tough, I think you'll do just fine up here on the surface. What can I get you two?'  
'Two beers and two mole rat specials please' Karina replied.  
She expected questions when the handful of red bottle caps was handed over to the waitress.  
'Okay, better get this out of the way first. We use soda bottle tops as currency. Don't know the ins and outs of why but we just do and it works. Cash from before the war is still around in small amounts, though paper didn't fare well in nuclear fire'  
'Drink cola to make money, gotcha'  
Brooke smiled for the first time since coming to the surface. The expression warmed Karina slightly. She wondered if she'd been too quick to judge.  
'Second thing is, yes I did order mole rat for you to eat. They're the size of pigs and a lot more abundant. The meat is very good, you'll see'  
'I feel like i don't have a choice in the matter. You said something about Rivet City before?'  
'Aha, yes. Rivet City. It's the unofficial capital of DC and the surrounding area. Have you ever heard of an aircraft carrier?'  
Brooke shook her head. Before Karina could continue, Jenny handed the women a brown glass bottle each.  
'You gals are in luck, we got a delivery of Bobrov's Beer this week so you're saved from Billy Creel's homebrew'  
'Thank you Jenny' Karina smiled.  
She tapped her bottle against Brooke's, confusing her with the gesture, then continued.  
'So America's navy had these massive flat topped ships which they used to launch planes from way back when. One was docked down in DC when the bombs fell. Two hundred years later and you got yourself a ready made fort with everything needed to survive and prosper. It's called Rivet City now, and all the boxy metal hallways and rooms are the closest you'll find to your Vault'  
'What is DC actually like? I mean the city?'  
'For the most part it's a warzone. Now strap in because I'm gonna hit you with a lot of crazy stuff very quickly. You might forget half of it within a day but hopefully not'  
'Right' Brooke sighed, then took a sip of the beer. 'Go from the top'  
'I'll start with who we're gonna call 'human' factions-'  
'Oh boy' Brooke cut in.  
'Tell me about it. So you got a mercenary crew called Talon Company. Nasty bunch. They'll do anything for the right price. I mean anything. Some of the worst massacres have been traced back to them'  
'Well what's a gun for hire without a distinct lack of morals?'  
'They have a presence on the Mall pretty much all the time, vying for control of the Capitol Building. Somebody really wants it cleared out. Speaking of morals, we have Reilly's Rangers on the other side of the coin'  
'What, a good hearted band of gun nuts?'  
'You're catching on fast newbie. The Rangers are based in Seward Square, right in the thick of it. They have principles that hold tight. Their training and skill is levels ahead of Talon, but they lack numbers. After the apocalypse, survivors of the US army regrouped into a faction called the Brotherhood of Steel'  
'Fancy name. What's their schtick?'  
'Back east, where they began in California, they were just techno luddites. Blamed out of control technological innovations for the world ending. They basically steal anything more complex than a rock and lock it away. The group that travelled out here have changed their mission, and claim to want to help the people of the Capital. They have the highest concentration of powered armor suits so it's good they're on our side'  
'Tin men are friendly. Got it'  
'Last of all you have SWORD. Strategic Wasteland Operations and Research Division. They're pretty shadowy. A law unto themselves, but their aims are just. If you see dudes in long brown dusters, best guess is they're hunting down some assholes'  
'So they're vigilantes?'  
'You can't define vigilante when there's no established system of law and order. Anyone can dish out justice as they see fit'  
Before their debate could go further, the food arrived. Brooke was apprehensive about the dish, but hunger drove her to try. Surprising herself, she actually enjoyed the tender steak. Once finished, Karina got up to leave.  
'Sorry new blue. The rest you'll have to find out the hard way. Moira Brown has a store called Craterside Supply, just across from the lowest point of the crater. It has a red sign with yellow lights'  
'Wait. You can't just go'  
'Duty calls. You've got a smart head on your shoulders, and you're ready to forge your own path. It's a Wasteland but it's still full of opportunity. I'll see you around Brooke Rumlow'  
This was Karina's last test. She could see immediately in Brooke's expression that she'd picked up on it.  
'Wait. How do you… How do you know my last name?'  
'Because I ran into your father last night. Sat in this very table'  
'What the fuck? Why didn't you say earlier?'  
'He told me about the Vault, how nobody leaves. He also said how important his mission out here was. When you came out decked in armor, I thought they'd sent you to bring him back. Now I know that isn't the case'  
'What is his mission? Why did he leave?'  
'He wants to save the Capital Wasteland'


	6. Springvale - 3rd November 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previous escapees from 101 find shelter

Four hours earlier, just as Brooke was leaving Vault 101, events were unfolding in a house in the town of Springvale. Rebecca Barnes sat, heavy eyed in the stained ripped chair where her vigil kept her for six hours. Every part of her body screamed at her to sleep, rest, and recharge. She couldn't. Fear wouldn't allow it. Her gun kept her hand in her lap. Whether she'd possess the strength to raise it to an intruder wasn't known to her.  
At midnight back in the Vault, Thomas insisted that it was time for them to leave. It was a simple task for Becky to alter the guard shift schedule to put herself on door duty. Steve was responsive and able to walk around after lying comatose for so long following the serum's administering. When time came for Thomas to bring him to the door, things went wrong. Rogers stumbled upon entering the entrance hall, collapsing to his knees.  
'Damn it. Still too soon. It's too late we have to go now. Miss Barnes, catch' Rumlow cursed, throwing Becky an unassuming key. 'One rotation clockwise then three the other way'  
Rebecca kept a worried eye on Steve as she followed the instruction, only to step back in wonder when the door mechanism swung into action. She knelt by Steve, urging him to look. Even on his knees he was almost as tall as her.  
'Come on buddy. We're so close. We're nearly out of here'  
'Go...just get out of here Becky' Steve groaned.  
'No, not without you' Becky snapped back.  
Thomas pulled two duffel bags from behind assorted clutter beside the door.  
'Now or never you two. Come on!'  
Neither had ever heard Thomas raise his voice. Becky took one bag, supporting Steve on the other shoulder. The Doctor assisted as Rogers pushed himself upright slowly. As they crossed over the threshold of the door, Rebecca could swear she heard Steve laughing.  
'What's funny big guy?'  
'Nothing. It's just. This would have been a lot easier if I was still tiny'  
He laughed louder, barely able to speak until he composed himself.  
'We did all this in the wrong order!'  
Rebecca smiled at Steve's good humour in what would otherwise be a life changing moment. Thomas leaned over, switching on the lights on all three Pipboys. The murky haze of the tunnel was flooded with green, reflecting off of smooth rocks.  
Rogers was propped against the cave wall so Thomas could run back inside to close the door. As the two younger people waited, they noticed a strange scene in the darkness.  
'Steve, look. Just by the door'  
The remains of those too late to enter the Vault when it first closed were still there. Blackened bones lay around rotten suitcases and trunks. The door closed behind Thomas Rumlow. Rebecca felt the breath escape her chest suddenly. The world she grew up in was gone. In all likelihood she would never return, she thought.  
'Steve, how are you feeling?'  
'Like I'm ready to take on this crazy world outside Doc. Let's go!'  
They followed lights to the north east first. Illuminations from windows that turned out to be Springvale school. A brief shootout with the Raider occupants had them fleeing to an empty home, boarded up and apparently secure. That's when Steve collapsed onto the bare mattress and became unresponsive. Thomas was moments from being killed by Rebecca when he announced he was leaving.  
'You can't leave Steve like this. Look at him!'  
'His vitals are stabilising. Given time he will be fine. I just have to get the project restarted ASAP. Good luck to you both'  
She closed in on the Doctor, pulling back the hammer on her pistol. Thomas was unfazed.  
'Look, Steve is out of the woods in terms of his recovery. It will take time, like restarting an engine. Before long he will be the most formidable human in the world'  
Her grip tightened, hand shaking. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.  
'I swear to God if you try to go I will kill you'  
He called her bluff, ignoring the shaking gun barrel and walking out into the darkness.   
So Rebecca did what she could. Covered Steve in a moth bitten blanket from a cupboard, gathered the two bags of supplies that Thomas had left for them, and waited.  
11am had just ticked over when she couldn't hold out any longer. Her eyes had been idly watching Steve's chest rise and fall. They closed. Her head nodded, the corner of her body armor suddenly as comfortable as a pillow. 'just rest my eyes for a moment' she told herself, but she was gone. Sliding away into instantaneous deep sleep.  
Rebecca screamed. Cold sweat washed over her in seconds. The hand on her arm was batted off with fearful impulse.  
'Becky it's okay. You're okay. It's Steve'  
The bed was empty. He was stood on her left, peering through a crack in the boarded window when she woke.  
'Huh. Hmm? Shit I fell asleep. Fuck. Is everything alright. You're stood up!' she mumbled groggily. 'How long was I asleep for?'  
'As far as I know, six hours Becky. I came around at eleven thirty and just let you rest'  
'Any trouble?'  
'None. This place does look lived in though. No sign of the owner yet'  
'Great Rogers. Five minutes out of 101 and we're trespassing. Do you remember Thomas leaving?'  
'No...I don't really remember anything after getting to the Vault entrance. He just upped and went like that?'  
'Pretty much. I don't even know where we are, except close to a place where people shot at us'  
'Well he did say the world was pretty terrible. I've gone over what he left us in those bags. We can sit pretty here for a few weeks, provided the locals don't bother us'  
Rebecca got up and walked out of the bedroom without answering. In the front room she composed herself before approaching the front door. Steve followed. He guessed what she was about to do.  
'I haven't seen this world yet. I, we can't make a call unless we know what we're dealing with'  
His hand rested on her shoulder when she slowly gripped the handle.  
'Oh god'  
The residential street was completely flattened on one side. Buildings reduced to piles of burnt wood and rubble. The overcast sky a strange green tint reminiscent that nuclear poison still blew on the winds. It was the silence that unsettled her the most. She took small steps backwards. Steve leaned and took in what she saw.  
'Yeah, it's pretty bad around here. The only other standing structure in the town is that school full of psychos'  
'I think we should stay here. There's something more pressing than the world outside' Rebecca said, closing the door and leaning against it. Her gaze at Rogers, with an inquisitive smile, intrigued him.  
'And what would that be Becky?'  
Her steps towards him were slow, hips intentionally swaying. her eyes swept down and up his body.  
'You. Big guy. All this going on and you haven't had time to get used to your new self. Neither have I'  
Steve felt an unwelcome warmth in his cheeks.  
'Uh yeah, good point. I feel like a stranger in this body'  
He looked at his hands, larger than they were a month ago. His twig like arms now bound in muscle that would take months to build up. He surprised himself by squeezing his fists, watching biceps bulge. The disconnect between mind and body deepened. Rebecca saw the unease in his eyes. She softened, gently taking his hands in hers.  
'You're gonna be alright Steve. Just take it slowly'  
Between them, the door opened. Impulsively, Rogers put an arm between Rebecca and the newcomer. The red haired teenage girl looked wide eyed at the pair. Steve reached out a hand, for the girl to recoil.  
'Hey, we're not here to-'  
'Mom! We got trouble'  
A hand appeared on the teenager's shoulder pulling her back. A silver barreled pistol was pushed through the doorway, flicking between Steve and Rebecca. The woman carrying it moved in alone.  
'Okay you two. Talk. Why are you in my home?'  
Sandy brown hair fell over her shoulders, over the grey hoodie and denim worn by the older woman.  
'I'm Rebecca Barnes, this is Steve Rogers. We didn't know you lived here. We just escaped from Vault 101'  
The pistol was lowered.  
'You too huh?' the woman replied 'Gail come in here. Got two more blue runaways. I'm Charlie Branch. Gail's my daughter and my whole world'  
'Thanks for not shooting first like the guys at the school' Steve said, relieved. 'You said two more?'  
Gail rejoined them, closing the door behind her. Charlie invited the Vault dwellers to sit on her sofa to explain and ask further questions.  
'So what happened down there? They letting people out now?'  
'Not exactly. We escaped with a doctor, Thomas Rumlow. You met him?'  
'There was a girl in Megaton. I saw her outside Stahl's cafe around midday. Jet black hair and body armor'  
'Brooke? Do you think she got out too?' Becky hissed in Steve's ear.  
'I don't know. She could have been sent to bring us back'  
Steve turned back to Charlie.  
'This place. Megaton. Where is it?'  
'Three miles south. You avoiding the other Blues or something?'  
'Yeah. Is there anywhere else safe to go?'  
'You two seem like pretty normal folks, we got a spare room here if you don't want to split right away' Charlie offered 'Nearest places are north to Big Town and Arefu. If you feel more daring there's Germantown but it's a heck of a way'  
'Wait, you'd do that for us? We have supplies we can share with you in return' Becky replied.  
'See? I know good folks. I can just tell. Gail, go unlock the guest room. Hope you two won't mind sharing a bed?'  
Steve and Becky looked at each other awkwardly, both turning away and scratching their heads simultaneously.  
'Yeah, no problem' Becky chuckled.  
'Sure' Steve sighed.


	7. Robco Facility - 10th November 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow finds a higher calling

Brooke stopped in the parking lot outside the large square robotics factory. Despite the cold temperatures, the sun in the clear sky left her sweating under her jacket. The shadow of the building stretched far beyond the rows of wrecked vehicles. She sat on the hood of a sports car and pulled the water container from her rucksack strap. The opportunity was taken to report back to Moira using her Pipboy.  
'Okay, frequency 87.4...come on...Moira? You there? It's Rumlow'  
'Oh hey!' the bubbly trader replied 'How's my favourite researcher getting on?'  
'I'm your only researcher you airhead. I have good news about the Robco place. It's still here'  
'That's great. Were my directions any good?'  
'Affirmative. You can see this place from the first ridge out of Megaton'  
'Any trouble on the way?'  
Brooke gripped her bottle and bit her lip at the question. Two days earlier she returned to Moira's store in Megaton after a successful reconnaissance trip to a Megamart between the town and DC. It was the closest she'd been to the city, stopping on a ridge to take it in. It was on the top of the rise she noticed something peculiar. Close to her vantage point was a lone ruined farmhouse. A small metal sphere was hovering around it, broadcasting old music. Getting closer, the machine had four spokes protruding from the back of it. Brooke approached the diminutive robot, gazing at the grill that served as a face. It seemed to be aware of her. Stopping and looking back.  
'What are you?' she mouthed to herself.  
The robot beeped cheerfully at her, pausing the music.  
'You can hear me?'  
It nodded in response, bobbing up and down like an excited child.  
'Oh so you're not just a floating speaker. What kind of machine are you?'  
The bot seemed to tune into various stations, playing words from different sources to string together an awkward sentence.  
'I...am...a...eye...bot'  
'An Eyebot huh? Are there more like you?'  
'That...is correct'  
Canned laughter from a game show played before the Eyebot cut it out.  
'Are you playing someone's radio station?'  
Another cheerful nod answered her. The wistful tune ended and a man's voice spoke.

"We live in an age of poverty, greed, violence, destruction. Indeed, the very seat of the federal government, Washington D.C., has been reduced to what is now known as the "Capital Wasteland." The Capital Wasteland... How did it come to this, America? How did your leaders allow the most powerful nation on Earth… to die? The answer is really quite simple: Incompetence. Incompetence at the highest echelons of power. We put our trust, our faith, in halfwits. Our intrepid leaders had everything they wanted! Power. Wealth. Prestige. And it made them lazy, America. Oh yes, and laziness breeds stupidity. Rest assured, I will not make the mistakes of my predecessors. When John Henry Eden builds a country, he builds it to last. The American way. Don't you, my darling America, deserve that? Don't you deserve a future free of war, and fear, and terrible uncertainty? Of course you do. As President of the United States, you have my solemn pledge that I will never rest, NEVER rest, until we all have what we deserve: A place to truly call... home"

The spike of the Washington Monument, dome and spire of the Capitol, the grand white block of the Lincoln all stood within her view. The President's voice resounded in her for a moment. Then it faltered.  
'That's just an old recording you floating ball of bolts' she sneered.  
Brooke turned from the distraught machine, dipping it's head at her departure.  
Her journey to the Mart was rewarded with enough caps for another night in Moriarty's Saloon, an establishment that sat at the top of Megaton's crater. Until that evening she had turned a blind eye to the prostitution run by the saloon's eponymous owner, Colin Moriarty. Brooke felt unusually liberated in her freedom, sinking drink after drink at the before Gob, the ghoul bartender. His decrepit, scarred, and decomposing face surprised her at first, shortly before realising he was just like any other human.  
'Say...Job…' she slurred as the clock ticked to 11 behind him.  
'Its pronounced Gob smoothskin. How many times?'  
'Whatever. You got any...you know. Dudes I could rent for the night?'  
'You're literally the first person to ever ask that. For that reason, the answer is no'  
'That sucks. I'll have to do it myself then'  
She turned around on the bar stool, the room still spinning in her eyes. She scanned the two dozen patrons sat or stood around, paying her no heed. Her gaze flicked back and forth several times until a lone man at a high table ticked the right boxes. He was young, no older than twenty five. His beard was kept in check, unlike most of the other men she'd encountered. In general, it was just the fact that the stranger looked clean that caught her eye.  
'You!' she yelled, snapping her fingers and pointed until she caught his attention. 'Name?'  
'Jack Rollins'  
'You'll do. Come on'  
Staring at the sky over the tall tower to the east of Robco, her mind fixated to the inebriated fun she had that night. Rollins did everything she wanted, and did it well. Once she lay in sweating satisfied bliss, Brooke told him to leave without a word. He did that too. Her dreams were pleasant for the first time since leaving the Vault, and she woke with a renewed enthusiasm for Moira's tasks. For her first foray into the west, Brooke was given one free weapon from Craterside Supply's considerable arms locker. She chose a modified M4 carbine, augmented with a holographic scope, angled foregrip, and a grenade launcher under the barrel. Moira did not possess any 40mm explosives, but was optimistic that Brooke would find some easily.  
Such a destructive round would have come in handy during her day long journey to Robco. Several hours in, she encountered crashed articulated truck half in a ditch. A low rumble emanating from the open tailgate worried her. She took the carbine from her backpack and held it tight to her shoulder. As she approached the end, a tear in the truck side gave her a glimpse of the creature within. It's skin was mottled purple and brown, patchy tufts of black hair all over. The bear looked to be eight feet tail to snout. Her hair stood on end at the sight of the sleeping beast. With her eyes on the truck, Brooke didn't see the rock in the road. She tripped, the barrel of her weapon striking the vehicle.  
'No no no' she begged silently to herself.  
It was in vain. The beast growled and rolled to it's feet. Brooke's legs refused to move. Fear swept over her like an icy wave. Heavy paws were carrying the bear to the open tailgate. She had seconds to decide whether to fight or run. The beast was huge, she'd never outrun it. It's sense of smell keen, like all mammals she remembered from biology classes. Her only choice was to kill it. She ran up an outcrop of rocks and dead trees some thirty feet from the vehicle, crouching and aiming the weapon in firm hands as the bear lumbered into full view. It was still dozy and hadn't spotted her, nestled amongst burnt black wood limbs.  
'Gah, fuck you, you ugly hairy son of a-'  
The weapon kicked back mightily with each squeeze of her finger. The beast shook it's head and fixed it's eyes on her. Her bullets seemingly did nothing, the bear setting into a canter towards her. Closer now she saw rounds punching through thick hid, but did little to slow it's advance. She ripped the empty magazine from it's well, slapped in a new one, and flicked the switch to full auto. Her back was against a tree. If she failed she was dead. Just feet away, the bear rolled onto its haunches, claws and teeth ready to rip her apart. She screamed, almost in harmony with the roaring beast. Bullets whipped out, angling upwards and into the exposed chest. One round finally caught it's mark, punching up through the skull. Not realising her luck, Brooke curled up around her weapon and shut her eyes as the bear fell.  
When she opened them, she gazed up. Something warm and wet dripped from above. The dead bear had fallen, impaling itself on the short branches of the tree. Blood from the dozens of wounds streamed on her before she crawled from the outcrop. Gasping for breath, she gazed at the macabre trophy she'd made.  
'Sorry buddy. It was you or me'  
She shook her head, Trying to clear the adrenaline haze that kept her heart pounding. The crash would come next, giving her two choices.  
Brooke laughed. She couldn't stop herself. The joviality sustained itself for the rest of her walk. Every once in awhile she would peer backwards, seeing the corpse skewered and held up like a puppet. Her survival was hilarious. If she didn't laugh, it would be fearful crying that wracked her instead.   
At the Robco factory, the blood covering her all weather jacket and backpack had mostly dried, though she could still feel where it soaked through to her undershirt. One upside of separate clothing pieces was not having to replace it all once spoiled like her Vault suit.  
'No, trip here was fine. Plain sailing' she said to Moira.  
As her hand touched the large wooden double doors to the reception area, she paused. To her right, Brooke could hear a familiar tune. Far down the facade of the building, another Eyebot was drifting towards her, playing music just as before. She let it approach, watching it stop and hover near her expectantly.  
'Are you the same bot I saw yesterday?'  
The Eyebot nodded happily. She sighed.  
'What do you want from me? I don't care about your recorded bullshit'  
The bot looked side to side, then paused the music. Retuning itself, the machine plucked words from the airwaves once again.  
'Its best you knew...that...the President...lives' came the various disembodied voices.  
'He. President Eden is real? He's alive? Where? The White House?'  
'Negative' barked a Sergeant from an old military comedy series. The Eyebot did something different. The sounds it put out appeared to be a dial tone. After a few seconds, somebody answered.  
'You have a direct line to General Augustus Autumn, to whom am I speaking?'  
'Uh, hello? My name is Brooke Rumlow. Is this your Eyebot?'  
'Affirmative. All Eyebots are property of the United States Government'  
'Okay. So you're with the President?'  
'I am indeed. I am proud to serve John Henry Eden in this difficult time for our great nation'  
Her heart leapt. Breath quickened. There might be some hope for her after all.  
'Where are you? I want to find you. I want to serve the president'  
'Now steady on darlin' we can't just let any old Wastelander join our cause. Tell me about you? Why only contact us now?'  
'I've been in Vault 101 until recently. Only heard your broadcast two days gone'  
General Autumn sounded markedly interested after mention of the Vault.  
'Is that so? Is your Pipboy still functional? If so, look at your health tab and tell me the precise number on your RADs count'  
Brooke did as instructed.  
'It's at thirty seven General. Why?'  
'Thats enough. We're arranging a transport for you right away. Please follow the Eyebot to a secure landing site'  
'Thank you' she sighed with relief. 'Did you say 'landing site?"  
'Indeed I did Miss Rumlow. Welcome to The Enclave. The last, best hope for America'  
The Eyebot seemed ecstatic after listening to the exchange. Brooke stopped it before it set off to lead her towards the hills to the north.  
'Hang on. There's something I have to do first'  
The machine stopped and watched her intently. She pulled up Moira's frequency again. Her hair was ruffled with the shake of the head to get into character.  
'Brooke? Everything okay there?' the trader asked.  
'Ghouls…too many. I'm hurt'  
'Oh God! Where are you?'  
'Robco. Robco basement. I'm trapped in a storeroom…'  
She coughed for effect.  
'Brooke? Brooke! Hold on! I'll call help'  
'Negative. Moira don't get anyone else killed. Oh God. Oh God they're breaking in!'  
The Eyebot flinched and drifted backwards when Brooke let out an ear splitting scream. She hit the Pipboy mic receiver a few times then turned the broadcast off.  
'Sorry about the dramatics. I guess you guys don't want me being followed?'  
The robot nodded, moving closer to Brooke.  
'Come on then you glorified helmet, show me where to go'


	8. Rivet City - 10th November 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falcon gets a new acquaintance and a hardware upgrade

Samantha sat perched on the highest point of the ships tower for far longer than she intended. The single parcel secured in the pouch on her belt would net her fifty caps on delivery to the city resident twenty floors below, but something made her want to wait. Her wings remained extended, curved around her like a cocoon. Up here she could see all of the city. She wondered just how much violence and death was occuring every second within DC.  
'Idiot. This is why you stay out of this shit. This is why you spend your time alone, living from one job to the next' she mumbled to herself.  
Her thoughts were becoming too broad. Forget DC, she told herself. Tonight her world was Rivet City, the mighty settlement within a ship. She could taste the beer from the Muddy Rudder Bar already. The leaky, dark dive at the lowest level was always her favourite, as nobody ever remembered her from previous visits. Even nights that crescendoed into drunken brawls floated in her head as fond memories. Who knew? Maybe she would catch some other action tonight as well. Unzipping a pocket on the pants of her flight suit, she felt around the rolls of caps. There was easily enough for a room in Wetherly's hotel, she estimated. Vera Wetherly's prestigious hotel was one of two within the ship, and the only one with a name. The other was just called Rivet City Hotel, and was the budget option for travellers seeking respite from the horrors of the city. There was, however, a third option for those that could not afford even the City Hotel. The ship was accessed from the shore by a thirty foot suspended bridge that could be retracted if under threat. The shore side connected to a small three storey tower, little more than an enclosed staircase. Around this building though, a destitute tent city was beginning to spring up. Refugees were coming in from the increasingly hostile wildlands that surrounded DC in larger numbers, only to find themselves unable to afford the security of the aircraft carrier. Migrant families rationalised that simply being near the City would be safe enough.  
Samantha's gaze remained on the motley collection of lean-tos and tents along the shore. The slum only sprung up in the last few months. She didn't want to think what would happen once the deepest months of winter set in.  
'Poor bastards' she mouthed.  
Her gloved finger ran down her side to the button at her hip, igniting the jets on her back. The sun was getting low earlier and earlier. It was time to get inside, get paid, and get drunk. It was possible to get down to the base of the tower by the stairs, but every flight was still a thrill to her. Samantha's back was to the door to the stair access. Her thoughts of the night ahead left her oblivious to the man stepping out onto the roof.  
'Well those are just fantastic!' Stark declared, clapping his hands together  
'Holy fuck!'  
Samantha dived forwards, heart pounding as the flat metal deck rushed to meet her. She twisted and banked upwards, flying back over the tower roof to see who had surprised her. Seeing the suited, coiffed man intrigued her. He was familiar but she couldn't pin him down to a specific memory. Tony watched her circle him and land with gleeful interest. On touching down, Samantha fumbled with the pistol in her chest holster.  
'I know you. What do you want?' she barked.  
'I'm Tony Stark. Founder and partner of SRP Armorers' he replied, grinning.  
'That's the one' Samantha declared, pocketing her gun and stowing her wings. 'I remember you from Tenpenny Tower. Guessed you were a native at the time'  
'I am a fan of the tower and the old coot in the penthouse. Wouldn't want to live there though. I take it you didn't either?'  
'Bunch of entitled snobs if you ask me'  
'Exactly. They take comfortable living for granted'  
'Pfff, and you don't? Going everywhere in those fancy suits?'  
Stark looked down at the black suit and red tie he was dressed in and chuckled.  
'You know' he began as he loosened the tie and released the top few buttons. 'If I took anything for granted, I wouldn't wear this even up to this roof'  
Covering his chest was an intricate interleaving piece of body armor. Samantha's brow furrowed. It was thinner and unlike anything she'd seen before. Stark didn't react when she stepped forward to prod between his open shirt.  
'What is it made of? This is bulletproof?'  
'It's a carbon titanium composite that I'm not willing to share with anyone, no offence ma'am'  
Samantha balked at the term.  
'Please. I'm Samantha. Samantha Wilson'  
'An excellent name. How would you like me to continue formal introductions Ms Wilson? I'm a fan of hand kissing myself'  
'You kiss my hand and I'll knock your teeth out. Be completely unlike Tenpenny, remember'  
'Got it'  
Stark extended an open hand. Samantha reached past, gripping his wrist and feeling him return the hold.  
'You are well travelled Stark. Wouldn't take you for someone who knows the Olney handshake'  
'I don't make a disgusting amount of caps selling guns without getting to know people. And call me Tony'  
'Stark will do. For now. You gonna tell me why you came up here?'  
'Absolutely. It is a little cold up here though. Could we continue this over a drink at-'  
'Yes' Samantha interrupted 'At the Rudder. And it's on you'  
'Sure thing. I'll see you there in an hour?'  
'Thirty minutes. Tony'  
Stark was taken aback for the first time in a while at Samantha's bluntness. He nodded, shot her with a finger gun, and took a step back towards the door. Samantha gave a sarcastic wave, walking backwards and falling over the railing again.  
*  
Tony was waiting at the bar in the Muddy Rudder when Samantha arrived, fifty seven minutes after parting on the rooftop. Stark had been staring at his martini and ignoring the looks of the patrons when she clapped him on the shoulder and sat on the stool nearest him. She had bought clothes from the city market just for the evening, matching Stark's suit with a black A-line dress with white collar.  
'Hey Tony. Been waiting long?'  
'No, in fact I'm a big fan of the place. Came to soak up the uh'  
'Damp?' she jibed.  
'Yeah. There's plenty of that. We could get a table? What are you drinking?'  
'Here's fine. Whiskey on the rocks, double'  
Stark simply nodded at the aging woman tending the bar, who pushed Samantha's drink to her with a casual indifference. He held his drink to her, which she tapped with her short glass. Ice clinked as the woman finished the whiskey in two gulps.  
'So, go from the top gunboy. The fuck were you doing on the roof earlier?'  
'Waiting for you. See I was on the flight deck for fresh air and a cigar when I see you. I'm not going to sugar coat anything. You blew my mind. I always thought the EXO-7 Falcon was a myth, yet there it is'  
'Wait, you know about my suit?'  
'I do. Well, a virtual friend of mine did. Let me introduce you'  
Samantha's eyes narrowed when Stark produced a flat cylinder from his jacket pocket. Placed on the bar top, the push of a button revealed the device to be a projector. A sphere of interlocking mechanical parts shimmered into existence between Tony and Samantha.  
'So you have a hologram device?'  
'I am far more than that Miss Wilson' a voice said from the device. 'I am JARVIS. A vocal interface for Mr Stark's virtual systems and databases'  
The parts of the sphere pulsed with orange light as the machine spoke.  
'Well that is uh. I'm trying to say it's cool Tony, but I feel like I'd just sound sarcastic'  
'You're damn right it's cool. And calling himself an interface is underselling it. JARVIS exists in all of cyberspace. If it exists on a networked computer, he can find it. Tell her' Stark explained.  
'Righty ho then. The EXO-7 Falcon was a prototype personal flight capability device designed for stealth reconnaissance and pararescue. It was tested between 2008 and 2014, including live combat missions. Two such devices were made, though one was lost on the last mission. That's where records of the suit end'  
Samantha smiled, feeling tears well in the corner of her eyes. Stark noticed.  
'You all good there?'  
'Yeah' she blubbed, wiping her face on her arm. 'I can fill out the rest of the history for you two. You listening to this Jarvis?'  
'Certainly Madam. When you're ready'  
'Okay so' Samantha paused to sniff 'One of the two guys that flew these suits was an Airforceman called Samuel Wilson'  
Stark had been holding his chin as he listened. At mention of the name, his hand fell away, mouth open.  
'That's right Stark. You're talking about a Wilson family heirloom. All this history was written by Sam extensively after he retired, though that wasn't until the 2030s. Until then he kept the wingsuit, becoming some kind of private venture superhero. The loss of the other wingsuit was the death of his best friend, Tom Ryan. It's what drove him to leave the forces and fly solo. Pun intended'  
'That is just incredible. I am so glad we had this chance encounter Samantha Wilson. You're making your ancestor proud. One question, if I may?'  
'Go ahead Stark, but get me another drink first'  
He obliged, signalling to the crotchety bar maid. Samantha sank it in one once again, gazing at the ice as she swirled the glass.  
'There's been no record or sighting of the suit until now. Why now? And no offense, why you?'  
'Sam hid it. Leaving tiny clues in his written memoirs. Then 2077 happened and our family was lucky enough to escape the destruction of Washington DC. His diary came with them. All these years later it took me, salvager and treasure hunter extraordinaire, to find my own family's greatest prize'  
'Where was it?'  
'The Armory out at Wheaton. I had to piece together coded messages from ten different notebooks and diaries so it's no wonder the army never found it'  
'That is just incredible. So you're now a winged treasure hunter?'  
'Not so much any more. It was getting too dangerous, and I didn't want to worry my sister. I'm just a courier now. Best in the Wasteland'  
'No doubt. Do you take constructive criticism?'  
'I've had enough whiskey so yeah shoot'  
'Come down to SRP Armorers in the market tomorrow. I will sort you out with accessible, versatile weaponry. It'll be on the house too'  
'I don't plan on fighting any time soon'  
'Nobody does, but being prepared has dividends. I watched you pull your pistol out earlier. That was enough'  
'Fine, you've convinced me. I'll swing by your shop'  
'Great. I'll take my leave for now, if it's all the same'  
'Oh? Had enough of this place already Stark?'  
'A Little' Tony hummed, then finished his drink. 'And that Asian chick in the longcoat has been undressing you with her eyes since we got here'  
'I...what?'  
Stark got up and left the slightly drunk and very bewildered Samantha at the bar. She turned around to find the woman in question looking at her from a far table. Nodding, Samantha raised her ice filled glass and smiled. The gesture was returned, then the mysterious woman walked over.  
'Is Tony Stark done with you? I've heard how quickly he gets through women'  
'He's a total dog, but his intuition was pretty spot on with me… and you. Samantha'  
'Sydney'  
The two of them shook hands in mockery of Tony's mannerism, then Sydney sat down. She took off the woolen army jacket and draped it on the back of her chair. Samantha found herself gazing at the newcomer's various tattoos, some partially obscured by her cropped black vest and denim pants.  
'You're really sizing me up there Samantha. Got a thing for inked women?'  
'Not historically...now I'm not too sure'  
They laughed, with Sydney placing a hand on Samantha's thigh.  
'Wow, okay. Let me buy you a drink first at least' she said, surprised.  
'I'll have what you're having'  
Samantha noticeably slowed down her intake, matching the rate that Sydney was sipping the cold whiskey.  
'So, Samantha. You're not a regular in Rivet. What do you do and what brings you here?'  
'I'm a professional courier and occasional scavenger. How about you?'  
'Oh no way! I'm a treasure hunter, though I can't help think we don't overlap in what we seek'  
'Really? What junk do you risk your life for?'  
'Well. There's a museum in this ship, don't know if you've seen it'  
'I've heard of it. Never been'  
'It's run by a dim but nice old dude called Abraham. He wants to preserve as much of Washington DC's history right here. There's no way he could go five feet into Anacostia without getting ganked, so he pays me instead'  
'That is a sweet gig. I used to recover tech essentials for Tenpenny. Out west is getting too dangerous outside of strongholds like the Tower and Girdershade so I gave it up to be your basic delivery girl'  
'Hey I'll drink to that' Sydney said, toasting. 'No point rolling in caps if you're dead'  
'Exactly. So you have a place here in Rivet?'  
'Gosh no. This place is too safe and dull for me. My dig is one of the ruins around Anacostia Crossing station'  
'Can't beat real estate in the city eh?'  
'No you can't'  
Sydney finished her whiskey and looked at Samantha in the way she'd been waiting for.  
'So you want to come see where I'm staying tonight Syd?'  
'I'd like that. Lead the way Sam'  
Sydney reached out a hand, which Samantha held and took her from the bar. Their journey up through dark metal stairways and corridors took far longer than it needed to. Both women would revel in seizing the other when alone. With one final flight of steps before the hotel, Sydney took Samantha by the hips and moved her gently against the wall. She had forgotten how intimate hands felt after so long away from safety.  
*  
Sydney moving out from under the covers early the next morning woke Samantha. She knew right away that the woman was leaving. She rolled over, bunching the blanket and gazing, bleary-eyed, at Syd as she got dressed.  
'I'm gonna miss that butt' she joked.  
'You don't have to. I'm never far from Rivet Sam'  
'I am though'  
The woman on the bed reached over, pulling her wrist computer from the table.  
'Already got another job. Parcel from Rivet to Olney'  
Sydney's brow raised.  
'That's a heck of a way. You're hiring an escort right?'  
Samantha laughed, sliding from the bed to gather her clothes from the floor.  
'I have one more thing to show you. Come with me to Gary's Galley for and I'll blow your mind one more time'  
Sydney stepped close to her, light fingers holding bare skin as if for the last time. Samantha's lips danced with hers again.  
'Here I was thinking we were spent after last night. Breakfast sounds great' Sydney sighed.  
After their meal together, Samantha brought Sydney to the flight deck, by way of her client's office. The man who hired her was Rivet City's chief physician, Doctor Barnaby Preston. The parcel was vital medicine requested by his counterpart in the northern city of Olney.  
'You've completely lost me now Sam. You're going to lug that little box the entire length of DC by yourself, with no backup?'  
'Yeah. Just me and...ah shit'  
Her vow to meet Stark was completely forgotten until thinking about her protection came to mind. They swung back down to the market, where SRP Armorers had opened for the day. Samantha decided to break the surprise to Sydney. Her flight suit would look like a hazardous environment suit without the wings deployed.  
'So here's the deal Syd' she said at the door to the market, 'I'm wearing more than just a funky backpack and suit'  
'You're telling me. Looks like you're climbing a mountain and skydiving off it after'  
'You aren't far off. This is a flight suit. The thing on my back contains wings and thrusters. Stark is gonna outfit me with better guns'  
Samantha walked forward. Sydney stayed behind to get a look at the wing pack, still in disbelief. She couldn't find any words, even when they reached the arms dealer stall. SRP Armorers was a large self-contained strong box of a stall. Inside the neon signed cube, every wall and aisle was lined with every gunpowder weapon imaginable. Mannequins bedecked in various armors were dotted around. Stark himself was at the central sales till, in front of a secondary cage where ammunition was stored. A mezzanine level above played home to administrator, stockist, and accountant, Pepper Potts. The early hour meant that Samantha and Sydney were the only visitors to the store. Stark took delight in seeing the two women enter together.  
'See Wilson, what did I tell you?'  
'Well done Tony, you're Cupid in the flesh'  
Sydney laughed at the jest, then piled in on Stark.  
'He sees two queer chicks and suddenly thinks he's a matchmaker. It's adorable really'  
Pepper heard the jibes from above and laughed audibly. It was the last straw for Tony, calling up to his accountant.  
'You got anything to add Pepper?'  
The ginger haired accountant cleared her throat and put eyes front to the computer terminal.  
'No Tony. Um. Mr Stark. Sir'  
Unseen to him, Potts smiled and gave a thumbs up to Samantha and Sydney.  
'Good' He continued, swinging back to the pair 'I said these innovations were on the house, and I stand by that, despite your hostility. Come see'  
He cleared pieces of a disassembled Famas rifle from the desk and pulled up the contraption. It appeared to be a jumble of straps with several short magazines and two machine pistols.  
'That's it? You're going to tie me up and dangle guns off me?' Samantha remarked.  
'God, could you just appreciate someone doing you a favor for once?'  
She felt a sudden self-consciousness at his plea. He had a point. He had done nothing but offer help since meeting her and she responded with jokes and bitterness. Months travelling alone had made it hard for her to process any positivity from strangers. She considered that it was only the alcohol that made anything happen between her and Sydney.  
'Yeah. Uh. Sorry' she stuttered 'Lets try this baby on'  
She was impressed by how well the harness adapted to what she already wore, affixing with little complications or adjustments.  
'How did you get this sorted so quickly? It's...it's amazing' she gushed.  
'I started to formulate it as soon as I saw you on the roof last night. I have this little knack for getting the exact measure of things just by sight'  
With Sydney's help, the last of the gun array was put in place. The machine pistols, identified as Steyr TMPs by Stark, were held at her waist. Extending cords would automatically transfer from the harness to her wrists when she held them, so they would always return to where they're meant to be. Once completely geared up, Stark unveiled one more surprise.  
'Right, see the big red clasp in the centre? And the black one near your collar? Release both'  
Samantha did so, and the entire set up, including her wing pack, fell loose. Only the guns strapped to her hips and thighs remained.  
'How in the world? That's impossible. This thing takes a few minutes to take on and off…' she gasped.  
'Yeah I guessed that. A few tweaks here and there allows for rapid removal in an emergency. God forbid if you end up in the river, don't want this thing drowning you'  
Samantha broke. She genuinely couldn't handle the amount of affection and attention she'd felt from Sydney and Stark in the last few hours. A fear swept through her, one she desperately fought and tried to get words out.  
'Tony...I don't. This is…'  
Words caught in her throat and tears swelled. Sydney noticed and tried to put a hand on her shoulder. It was batted away as Samantha clipped the harness back together frantically.  
'Sam what's the problem?'  
She didn't answer, turning and running from the store. Virginia watched from the railing. Sydney shot Stark a confused look before pursuing. In seconds both women were gone.  
'Tony what have you done now?'  
'Me? Pepper for the first time I genuinely don't know what I did to upset that woman'  
Sydney knew where Samantha was going very quickly, but she was already too far behind. When she pushed the bulkhead to the flight deck open, Samantha was already airborne. The trail of smoke traced high and arced over the ruins of DC.  
'Damn it girl. What was that?' Syd mouthed to herself.


	9. Germantown - 11th November 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogers and Barnes find new jobs, and eachother.

West wall. Three thirty in the evening. James didn't like the short cold days of winter, least of all up in Germantown. The old world army seemed to pride itself on living in hardship, with the buildings being as cold inside as it was outside. It was futile trying to heat every room, especially the sprawling mess hall. The barracks dormitories had wood burning stoves. Some expansive rooms like the gymnasium were solely used for exercise where soldiers kept themselves from freezing by working out. The shortest straw was guard duty. The walls around the town were completely exposed to the elements. Rhodes's jacket could only do so much to keep the biting cold out as he watched the dead wastes stretching out from the gate. Visibility was low. The towering statue of the lad holding a donut over in Paradise Falls was out of sight for the first time since the last big storm.  
Private Dex Wallace climbed the stairway to James's post with fresh brewed coffee in a thermal container.  
'Good evening Colonel Rhodes' the young man said, saluting.  
'Likewise Private. You come to help look out for literally nothing and nobody?'  
'Yes sir. General wants the searchlights on at five today. Anything to report?'  
'Yeah, thought there was a Raider incursion inbound but it was just a mole rat. I've come to a conclusion Dex'  
'What is that sir?'  
'I think, now hear me out, that the various bands of losers and junkies have finally realised that an army camp like this just isn't worth attacking any more'  
'Bold statement sir. I think we just crossed fifty days without trouble'  
'A milestone Private. I can't help but think the Raiders and Talon are just preying on weaker targets now winter is rolling in'  
'Is that a bad thing Colonel?'  
'Not for us obviously. But in all those attacks we never lost a single soul. Now people are dying while we stay here and safe. Bandits in the wildlands are driving refugees to Rivet City. The ship can't sustain those numbers'  
'You think it should become our business? Policing the wastes? Already got SWORD and the new age Brotherhood covering that'  
'SWORD are ghosts and BOS barely holds down their only outpost outside of the Pentagon. We have the numbers and skill to make a difference'  
'You could be right. Take it up with General Swartz...hold up, we have inbound'  
James turned to see two people approaching Germantown. Dex pulled up his long rifle to get a closer look. The Colonel called in on his radio what Wallace observed.  
'Come in control this is Charlie Romeo'  
'Go ahead' replied the female operator.  
James recognised her as Pfc Kate Winslow from comms division.  
'Two unidentifieds approaching west gate. One male, one female. Both carrying sidearms'  
'Copy that Rhodes. Any clue to allegiances?'  
'Uh blue. They're both in blue jumpsuits. Female had body armor and riot helmet. Male in brown leather jacket'  
'Got it. Nothing matches that look in our database. Look sharp Rhodes. It's your call'  
The two strangers were walking in a casual gait, thought Rhodes. It implied they were just travellers.  
'Dex, keep eyes on them, I'm going out there'  
'Yes Colonel'  
James checked his rifle unnecessarily. He hadn't fired it since loading three hours before. Habit made him check the straps on his helmet and armored webbing covering the chest. The wooden bar across the gate levered freely, only for the chill wind to blow over him once again after the brief respite in the gatehouse. He walked ten paces outside, level with the barbed wire and minefield signposts.  
'Okay that's close enough. I have a marksman trained on you. Show all your weapons or you will be treated as hostile!' he called.  
The pair responded, raising their pistols and making sure Rhodes saw them release the magazines.  
'State your names and business here'  
'I'm Steve Rogers. This is Rebecca Barnes. I'm here to request combat training. I've heard Germantown is the best place to learn' the man replied.  
James's brow furrowed. He waved them forwards. Rogers towered over him up close.  
'That's the first time anyone's asked that of us, I'll have to check it with the General. In the mean time you can come in out of the cold'  
'Thank you' Barnes said.  
'I'm Colonel James Rhodes' he introduced as the three returned to the open gate. 'You two come far?'  
'Yeah, Vault 101, by way of Springvale'  
'Vault what?'  
'The giant underground shelter near Megaton. We escaped a week ago. First people ever so no surprise you haven't heard of it' Rogers explained.  
'You've been down there your whole lives. That's crazy'  
'You're right about crazy' Barnes quipped. 'Place has gone insane so we split. Not that the surface is any less nuts'  
'It is a little strange up here but we do what we can. So you want to learn to fight and survive in the Capital?'  
'That's correct Colonel'  
The General stood to greet the two Vault dwellers when Rhodes brought them to his office.  
'Let me extend a personal greeting to you both. Welcome to Germantown. I am General Gerald Swartz.  
The row of various medals on his dress coat jingled as he shook Steve's hand. Rebecca felt slight surprise when she received the same gesture.  
'The reputation of this settlement preceded our arrival. I feel like I've come to the right place' Rogers said as they sat at Swartz's offering.  
A light snow began to fall in the wide window behind the General's chair.  
'The Colonel tells me you wish to learn the trade and craft of war. Is that true?'  
'That's right. I have basic firearms and cqb proficiency but Steve here is a total novice' Becky replied.  
Steve expected confusion at the revelation. Someone with his physique having no combat experience in the Wasteland. Swartz asked no further questions.  
'We pride ourselves with martial prowess and discipline here at Germantown. I will offer you both a six month term as recruits. If you accept, your past won't matter. Previously held titles and status is wiped clean. Your drill sergeant's word is law. Do you understand?'  
'Yes General' the pair said in unison.  
'Very well'  
Swartz got up and recalled Rhodes to the office, who had been waiting outside.  
'Colonel Rhodes here is a veteran instructor, and I think he'd relish in the responsibility of being your CO. You will follow his lead without question. Is that clear?'  
'Yes General' they repeated.  
'Excellent. I'll send cover to the gate Rhodes. You get these two settled in'  
'Affirmative General. On your feet Private Rogers and Private Barnes'  
*  
Steve put the duffel bag down in the small bunk room. They were lucky enough to have an unbroken window. Otherwise there were no luxuries aside from the dual bunk beds, desk, foot locker, wood burner, and bare wooden chair.  
'Hey Rogers, I call dibs on the top bunk'  
'Becky it would probably break under my weight so by all means'  
The girl clambered up, noticing how little gap there was between the mattress and the ceiling. She also realised the thin, threadbare blanket.  
'They really go all out in this place huh' she joked.  
'Well they are soldiers. Anything out of a wet trench is fine accommodation'  
'True. I was gonna ask if you wanted to back out earlier but I guess our word with the General is binding'  
'No chance. We need this if we're gonna make a difference in the Wasteland'  
Rebecca pursed her lips and hopped down, sitting next to Steve on the lower bunk.  
'What do you mean? I thought we were going to fight to survive?'  
'I know. I remember what you said about sticking it out together back in Springvale. But I think we could do more to help people instead of just eking a living'  
Rebecca sighed, looked down, then took Steve's hand.  
'That sounds like a plan. I'm with you until the end of the line'  
The two of them caught each other's eyes. Rebecca felt a sudden warmth rush over her which made her shiver. In response, Steve put his free arm around her, pulling the woman close. Becky laughed into Steve's chest.  
'What's funny' he asked softly.  
'It's nothing. Just...well everything'  
Before he could question further she placed a finger on his lips.  
'No more words Rogers' she whispered.  
Becky laughed again and pushed herself to her feet when a knock at the door filled the room. It was James.  
'You settled in there? Evening meal is in the mess hall in thirty minutes'  
'Yes Colonel' Becky replied, thinking too much about whether her arousal still carried in her voice.  
She listened for his footsteps fading down the hall, then turned back to the man sat on the bed. There was something in his eyes. A look she'd never seen from Steve before. Butterflies danced in her stomach, a giddyness that threatened to make her laugh again. She held it back, instead approaching him and sitting in Steve's lap. Her hand traced a line up the blue fabric on his chest, feeling that unfamiliar strength underneath once more. Becky's fingers curled around his head, her eyes locked on his.  
'You don't think I'm doing this just because you're suddenly buff do you?' she asked with a gentle vulnerability.  
'No, we're doing this because we're free'  
Any last shred of doubt went up in smoke. Rebecca felt like a firework was going off within her. She rolled forward, plunging herself and Steve back onto the bed. Hands scrambled between them, desperate to release the belts and zips of their jumpsuits. They fumbled and laughed. Within seconds there was only the thin blanket covering two bare bodies. Rebecca's skin tingled where exposed to the cold air, and blazed where it touched Steve.  
'I don't think we're gonna need that heater any time soon' she sighed.  
Steve smiled, holding himself over her. Her breaths became ragged as he traced a finger over her body. His eyes held a fascination like Becky had never seen. When he reached between her legs he moved, kissing her hard to stop her moaning out loud. Steve brought her close to the edge, that precipice. Before she was swept away by it, he stopped. Her eyes were deep dark pools into which he fell.  
'Do it' she whispered.  
Her hands grabbed his arms as he entered her. For a moment her breath caught, then broke free with a cry. He laughed, placing a playful hand over her mouth as they fell into a rhythm together. To her amusement, Becky found herself having to keep Steve quiet with a finger on his lips.  
It felt like moments passed before she was reaching the top of the climb again. The warmth washed over her. In the throes she held him tighter, gasping. Becky's frantic shaking brought on a similar ending to Steve. He held his mouth to her neck, hoping it would drown out his grunts. After a few seconds they both stopped gasping for air and started to laugh. She tickled his hair and moved him to lie beside her on the narrow bed.  
'I think I did alright for my first time' Steve sighed.  
She bolted upright, shooting a look of disbelief.  
'You…? No way. Wait' she wandered. 'Actually, yeah. If you'd done that before I'd be the first to know'  
'You still are Becky'  
He drew circles on her back, making her chuckle before Becky lay in his arms.  
'We should probably head down to the mess. Can't be late for our first orders from Colonel Rhodes' Steve conceded.


	10. The Scrapyard - 12th November 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With spies like these, who needs enemies?

Natalya had made looking over her shoulder second nature. Here, amongst the labyrinthine walls of cars and piles of junk it meant more than ever. Her movements were calculated and never repeated. Today had her feeling more cautious than ever, after the recent close contact missions. The half built shack overlooking the yard was her chosen spot to await nightfall. She had misjudged the downtime on the mission, and finished the novel she had packed before dark rolled over the scrapyard.  
Despite her best efforts, she was being watched within seconds of stepping amongst the twisted wrecks. He was an archer. Silent feet masked him as he stepped over the piles of wrecks, using the slightest glint of moonlight on the blonde woman below.  
'Using path Echo November today huh?' he whispered to himself.  
Her route was no longer a secret. He knew exactly where she would be before getting there. Ten yards ahead of Natalya was the tailgate of a delivery van. The front was buried in a wall of derelict vehicles. She got to the door and paused.  
High up and far behind her, the archer hesitated. This was where her path lead. Why had she stopped.  
'What's the hold up Blondie?'  
He pulled and arrow from his quiver and nocked it. On the ground, Natalya raised her right hand, her back to the pursuer. Her fingers made a circle no wider than a bottle cap, held in the air. The wind whistled. Feathers tickled her fingers, but she saw nothing. The shaft punched through a windshield. Shattering glass screamed in the quiet night, but she didn't flinch. A smile crept across her lips. In her head, Natalya counted to fifteen. Turning, the archer was right behind her. His clothes were all black, like hers, save for a purple decal that ran from the shoulder to opposite hip. Short chestnut hair, buzzed at the sides, still held a pair of sunglasses. Without a word the pair embraced.  
'You're getting sloppy Romanov' the follower remarked.  
'First day of training Barton. Don't let your pursuers know you're on to them'  
She laughed and they pulled away.  
'It's good to see you Clint' she said warmly.  
'Likewise Nat. What name was it this time? And get rid of that already. Nothing living within fifty yards of Baseplate'  
She touched a small device behind her ear. A luminous grid shimmered across her face, then she pulled it off. Minor features went with it. The small scar on her chin. Sun scorched cheeks. The shape of her brow. The blond wig was pulled off at the same time as the holographic mask, revealing longer red hair that fell down her back.  
'Shit Natalya, when am I going to get the cool stuff?'  
'I don't know, when you stop being a glorified guard dog I guess'  
She wandered over to the car that Clint Barton had struck. The shaft was intact, embedded perfectly in the centre of the embroidered 'O' in the headrest.  
'How could you even see this was a Corvega, Clint?' she said, handing him back the arrow.  
'I didn't' He laughed, then opened the van door. 'Let's get to the debrief with Fury. I'm going to want all the details of your little holiday to Megaton'  
Within the van was a false wall and a small elevator. The two agents stood face to face as they descended two storey's distance into the ground. Under the scrapyard was a second maze of steel walled catacombs, signposted and bathed in fluorescent lighting. Natalya had mixed feelings about being back in SWORD headquarters. It was safe, warm, and comfortable, but lacked the excitement of surface operations. Clint liked it down here because of the catering options.  
A balding middle aged man greeted the agents in the first hallway. Bedecked in a blue suit with red tie, Philip Coulson was the right hand man of SWORD's director. Natalya was happy to see him, though his responses were pleasantly neutral.  
'Hey Coulson, how have you been?' she beamed.  
'Surviving. Yourself Romanov? Which name was it this time?'  
'I went with Karina for the Megaton job. You sitting in on the debrief? It's a doozy'  
'I will. Yes. Let's get going'  
Coulson cracked a small smile, before it vanished as he nodded curtly at Barton. The archer returned the gesture.  
The trio walked far through the underground facility, having no need to follow signs on walls or ceilings. They passed firing ranges, robotics labs, lecture rooms, and workshops. The director's office held the illusion of being above ground. On three walls, Nicholas J Fury had full projections of camera feeds. Each was a live view stream from devices placed on the Washington monument. It gave him purpose, being able to see the goings on in Washington DC twenty four hours a day. He rubbed the buzzed hair on his scalp as another explosive firefight broke out near the Capitol. Despite having it for ten years, the strap of his eye patch caught in his finger. The mess of his right eye was visible in the reflective glass before the projections for a few seconds. He turned when the door opened and the agents entered.  
'Welcome back Romanov. Coulson. Barton, all good up top'  
'Clear as a bell Fury. Natalya's getting sloppy too. I give it a week before we're exposed' the archer joked.  
Romanov slapped him over the back of the head, eliciting a chuckle.  
'I see surface work hasn't changed either of you. Be seated' Nicholas said, flatly.  
Before Fury's desk, Natalya mentioned the events on the wall behind the director.  
'Mutants acting up again?'  
'Well it is daylight, so nothing new there. Talon still don't want to budge from The Hill. If it spills towards Brotherhood positions by the monument or Underworld, we'll intervene'  
'Nice. What assets do we have in AO?'  
'STRIKE team bravo is embedded in Underworld. Enough about them. We're all ears Romonov'  
Fury sat down and extended an open hand to Natalya, inviting her to recount events.  
'So I was in deep cover in Megaton for two weeks. Nothing out of the ordinary for the first few days. An Eyebot rolled by spouting Eden's usual bullshit but it was ignored. Nine days ago, things got interesting. Vault 101 opened'  
She paused to watch Fury react to the revelation. All she got was two fingers and a thumb rising to his chin. For Nick, it was dramatic.  
'Three people exit in the dead of night. One female guard, early twenties, still in her armor and helmet. An older guy, and a young jacked dude. Like, I've never seen such a man mountain'  
'Are you done ogling the guy?' Barton cut in.  
'Shut up. The big guy seems unwell. Stumbling. The other two carry him to a house in Springvale'  
'The town with the school full of Raiders? Bad news'  
'I'll get back to that Fury. The older guy doesn't stick around. I follow him to Megaton. Strike up conversation in Moriarty's Saloon. Thomas Rumlow, he was the vault's chief doctor. He's been on the surface before, and didn't want help. Said something about vital work he had to continue in the city'  
'We have eyes on him Romanov' Fury confirmed.  
'You do?' she asked.  
'Affirmative. A guy in a blue jumpsuit was spotted by a recon drone far out west. He went into a garage near Evergreen Mills. We're monitoring the situation. Back to the other runaways I presume?'  
'Yeah. I found out why the Raiders let them be. The home they took shelter in belonged to one Charlotte Branch, who lived there with her daughter'  
'So a woman and her kid live in a Raider bait town. Curious' mused the director.  
'The kid, well, teen. Gail. She's actually buddies with the Springvale school gang. Most of them are teenagers too. They let the girl and her mom live in one of the houses and actively protect them. I could return in cover to investigate further director'  
'That is a rare occurrence for Raider gangs I have to admit. Was it just the three escapees from 101?'  
'Nope, a fourth one came out, who I met face to face straight away. Brooke Rumlow, daughter of the older guy. She's also a guard, so I figured she was pursuing the other three. I, or should I say Karina, helped get her settled in Megaton. She was rattled by the state of the Wasteland, but otherwise got survival instincts. Spends a few days working for that ditzy trader. Then bad news hits'  
'Oh?'  
'So she's doing odd jobs for Moira Brown when one takes her out to the Robco factory out by Tenpenny tower. I bugged Craterside Supply so heard her last transmission. Claims that she's pinned in the basement by ghouls and wounded, then the radio cuts out. Moira was pretty cut up about it when I check in on her. There's one problem, and I think we all know what that is'  
The three men look at her. Coulson nods and confirms their suspicions.  
'Robco has never had a Ghoul infestation. Has she come up on anyone's radar?'  
'Negative' Fury answered 'She went dark on purpose. I think this isn't the last we'll hear of this Rumlow girl. Good work so far Romanov'  
'There's one last little peculiarity. The big guy, in the house in Springvale. He spends almost a week in the town doing the most bizarre things'  
'Define bizarre, agent'  
'He's running around a lot. But faster than anyone I've ever seen. This dude can sprint and just keep going full pelt way longer than he should'  
'So he's an athlete. Vault must have a decent gymnasium'  
'No, here's the thing. He's just as surprised by his athleticism as I am, as the guard girl is. It's like he's never run before. He's strong too'  
'How strong?'  
'Like flip a wrecked truck cab by himself. Thing must have been five tons at least. He only just breaks a sweat doing it'  
Barton shook his head and laughed.  
'You were in Springvale too long Romanov. Probably huffing what those Raider junkies were on'  
Neither Coulson or Fury doubted Natalya's words for a second. The director sat back in his chair and clapped his hands together.  
'I think we've found one people. At long last. Coulson, do you want to bring him in? Throw out the SWORD welcome wagon?'  
Before Philip could accept, Natalya interrupted.  
'We can't, not yet. It's the reason why I ended the observation. The guy, Steve Rogers, he's no fighter. Combat is as new to him as running'  
'So we train him'  
'He's already got teachers. I listened to him learn about Germantown from Charlie Branch. By my estimates, he and the guard girl, Rebecca Barnes, should already be there'  
Fury nodded in acknowledgement.  
'So the guy wants to be a soldier. Excellent. Gregory Swartz and his band of Brothers will give him everything he needs to become a fighter'


	11. Raven Rock - 13th November 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow gets a job interview

Brooke spent three days in the black steel cell. A thin foam mattress, itchy blanket, and a bare metal toilet was all she had. Her own folded vault suit served as a pillow. Two meals of thick, tasteless oatmeal were passed under a slot in the door each day. For forty eight hours she wondered what she had done to end up in confinement.  
The Eyebot lead her into the hills north of the Robco facility. It took until dusk to arrive at the pick up point, a radio relay tower parking lot. The station sat on a plateau over a wide cave mouth. While light still filled the hills and valleys, she looked over the lip at the dark cavern. Bones of human and unknown origin littered the ground thirty feet below. The Eyebot followed her, beeping a message of concern before she shooed it away.  
'Get lost sparky. I don't really want the attention of whatever left those bones. I only have one full mag left'  
Considering how much firepower it took to kill a single bear, she planned to keep a bullet for herself.  
A bitter cold set in when the sun dipped below the hills. The vault suit under her coat could only insulate her so much. The garment was only designed for the climate controlled environment of 101. Whenever she asked the Eyebot if the Enclave were close, it would simply nod and beep twice. Around 8pm, she heard what began as a rush of wind. Only it didn't fade, only getting louder, like a roar. A gale blasted her from above, knocking the Eyebot into a wrecked car. She screamed, the sound drowned out by the unnatural howl. Blinding light lit up a circle around her feet. Brooke had to close her eyes, even a covering hand wasn't enough. Blinded and deafened, she didn't see the two black armored soldiers approach her. One twisted her raised arm, driving her to her knees. The other seized her carbine, throwing it away. The same was done to the pistol on her thigh holster. Neither said anything through the breathing masks covering their faces. A dark cloth bag was put over Brooke's head. She couldn't talk or move, frozen with fear. The soldiers bundled her into the aircraft. It's twin prop engines the source of the localised tornado. The bare metal floor hurt against her face. Despite her lack of resistance, she felt plastic ties being tightened around her wrists.  
'Where am I? Are you guys Enclave? Wait, are we flying?'  
Her questions and protests were lost in the scream of the Vertibird's engines. The aircraft had dual, three-bladed, rotors mounted on rotating engine nacelles, allowing for vertical take off and landing. It gained altitude rapidly, doors sliding shut to pressurise the cabin holding Brooke and her captors.  
The flight north took just over an hour, ending with the aircraft landing through a wide circular silo door in a mountainside. Brooke had arrived at Raven Rock, base of operations of The Enclave in the Capital Wasteland. She wouldn't know it though. Her captors were silent and she remained hooded until being unbound in a brightly lit wet room. One wall was mirrored, though she was no stranger to two-way windows. Two figures in white hazmat suits stood before her, their faces covered by orange visors.  
'Where am I? You're the Enclave right?' she asked.  
'Take off your clothes' one of the technicians commanded.  
Brooke realised at least one was a woman, not that it helped.  
'Excuse me?'  
'You're in decon. Your clothes will be taken and incinerated'  
The second suited figure was also female. It was impossible to tell under their bulky clothes.  
'Remove them or they will be removed Wastelander'  
Brooke reluctantly obliged, turning away from the pair as she stripped down. The all weather coat, dried blood encrusted around the chest, was picked up and placed in a clear plastic bag. The same was done with her blue vault suit. The technicians stood expectantly as Brooke shivered in her underwear.  
'No. You can't be serious' she pleaded.  
'Full decontamination or you will be disposed of Wastelander'  
Brooke sighed and gritted her teeth.  
'My name is Brooke' she spat, unclipping her bra behind her back.  
The following process had her on the verge of crying and screaming but Brooke remained stoic. One woman roughly scrubbed her all over with a sponge as the other sprayed her with an icy high pressure hose. After the ordeal she was left shivering naked on the wet tile floor, covering her modesty. The pair of technicians left a grey towel, sweatpants and hoodie on a table then left. Stumbling to her feet, she leaned against the window. No fear could be found in the shivering naked woman, only anger and a vow. She didn't know if anyone was still watching on the other side. It didn't matter. The promise she made could have been at her own reflection.  
'You can cover their faces. You can hide them in your little base. It doesn't matter. I'll find out who those techs were, and they will die for this'  
Once dressed, an automated door opened where two armed guards waited.  
'You guys must be ugly as hell. Show your damn faces'  
The black masked men escorted her quickly and silently to the cell, where she spent the next two days in total isolation. There was no room to even exercise.  
She was sat, half asleep,against the cell wall when General Augustus Autumn entered under the powered door. He cut an imposing figure, six feet tall and bedecked in a tan leather longcoat over a black suit. His silver hair and beard regularly trimmed and groomed.  
'Good afternoon ma'am. I'm going to make this simple and swift. I ask questions, you answer them. Understood?'  
'Yes sir' she mumbled weakly.  
'Good. What is your name?'  
'Brooke Baria Rumlow'  
'Where are you from?'  
'Vault 101'  
'Why did you leave?'  
'To find my father, Thomas-'  
'I didn't ask for his name' Autumn snapped, 'Why did you contact us?'  
Brooke shook off the fatigue. Now was her chance to make her case for joining the surviving remnants of the United States government. She cleared her throat prior to answering.  
'You are The Enclave. You're the only legitimate power structure left in the Capital. It's time to stop mutation and degeneracy running rampant in this once proud nation. Whatever that entails, I want in. I'm here to serve my country sir'  
Struggling, she lifted a hand to salute the General. He kept a finger and thumb on his chin and nodded.  
'Very well' Autumn declared 'Brooke Baria Rumlow, get on your feet. I will take you to be sworn in'  
He gave her a hand to pull herself up, her legs still shaky. His was the first human face she'd seen since leaving Megaton. She followed the General through the base, appreciative that no guardsmen accompanied her this time.  
'You've come to us at a crucial moment Miss Rumlow' Autumn said as they passed soldiers, scientists, and engineers. 'Our time is at hand. The Wasteland is becoming critical. On the verge of total collapse'  
'If I may, sir?' Brooke interjected.  
Her interruption brought a smile to the General's face, though she didn't know it. He stopped, raising a hand.  
'Yes Rumlow?'  
'There's nothing left to collapse. Not really. Scattered city states with no cohesion or cooperation. You intend to conquer these settlements I presume?'  
'Very astute. You were on the surface for less than a week and gauged it well'  
'Thank you sir. What comes next?'  
'We leave the shadows. We make ourselves known. The citizens of Washington must know where the true power lies'  
She didn't respond, just felt the welling excitement in her chest as they came to a large conference room. Various important looking figures sat around an oval marble table. Brooke felt self conscious, still in her grey sweats and barefoot. Her appearance in the room behind the general caused a stir amongst the assembled scientists and high ranking personnel.  
'Augustus? You bring a captive savage before the council?' an older seated officer gasped.  
'No, I bring you an ace in the hole. Something to change our fortunes in the wars to come. Furthermore, you are in the presence of a General, yet you are still seated' Autumn fired back.  
Those at the table hurriedly got to their feet. Some saluted but it was all too late. It wasn't their acknowledgement he wanted.  
'Good, now you're on your feet, please welcome Miss Brooke Rumlow of Vault 101. She will be our chief consultant on Wasteland operations'  
Brooke's brow furrowed, though she quickly composed herself at the furore caused by her sudden responsibility. The General had said his part. He turned and gestured for her to leave.  
'Let them bicker. It's all those clowns do anyway. I've got an assignment for you and I have spoken'  
'Yes General'  
She paused to let him lead, having no idea where they were heading.  
'We're going to find you clothes first. Then quarters. I think you're deserving of a private room with your…station. Then we'll get you partnered up. Show you the ropes. Not particularly in that order. On the left here'  
Near a signposted mess hall, Autumn turned into the large room. A group of men and women stood talking and drinking coffee, still in black tactical combat gear. Brooke assumed they were the snatch squad that took her.  
'Squad Sigma' he addressed them. The team turned around. Brooke heart dropped at the sight of one.  
'This is your new squadmate. Private Rumlow. At ease'  
He turned to her, not noticing her eyes locked on one of the squad members.  
'These are now your brothers and sisters in arms. You will report directly to-'  
'Jack Rollins' she interrupted.  
The leader of the group went wide eyed at being recognised. Augustus Autumn was set aback slightly.  
'Yeah, we've met before' Rumlow sighed.


	12. Canterbury Commons - 25th December 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falcon flies home for Christmas

The settlement of Canterbury Commons was a linear collection of buildings clustered along a main street on a plateau. It only had two avenues of attack, which were easy to cover and defend. The accessibility of Canterbury, fed by highways threading to all corners of the Capital Wasteland, made it the central node for the various trade caravans. Town resident Carl Rutherford took it upon himself a decade ago to unify the travelling traders. Routes and schedules were now in place to stop the caravans bottlenecking on certain routes and overloading smaller settlements when they passed through. Despite it's economic importance, Canterbury was never high on the target list of any Raider gang or Mutant mob. The occasional bandit would see the wide open street and consider it easy pickings. All they would find is a bullet in the head from the town's cadre of guards.  
Martin Wilson, a former chef and self taught soldier, headed up a group of brothers. Rory, Fergus, Donal, and Ciaran were 24, 22, 19 and 17 respectively. All four were always overshadowed by their older sister, Reilly, who had left Canterbury to found her own mercenary crew. They were happy though, content to protect the town instead of existing in permanent danger.  
Rory Tiernan had been staring at the highway overpass west of the town for some time. His watch duty had been uneventful until mid-afternoon. Walter Crow's junk caravan had come in pursued by a giant scorpion. It was nothing new to have the wagon trains encounter trouble between towns, but this was different. It was often bandits that preyed on traders, hiding in concealment near the end of journeys. The last mile was where the travellers were tired, and easiest to ambush. Large creatures had burrows and nests far from humanity, Rory thought. What had brought this truck sized so close to Canterbury? He didn't have time to answer, only drag up the heavy rifle to perch it on the broken window. Guards at the back of the caravan periodically turned from the panicking draught brahmin to snap shots at the encroaching monster. A strange excitement crept over him, battling the paralysing fear brought by the sight of the giant insect. He would be vindicated. Months ago, the guard had spotted the weapon he was loading in a catalogue. The book arrived with a courier from Rivet City, and contained all the arms sold by SRP Armorers in the ship. Rory bugged the guardmaster to order it for town defense. Despite the exorbitant price tag, Wilson agreed. His only condition was that Rory was entirely responsible for the 35kg Denel gun.  
The scorpion was two hundred yards from him now. The bolt was heavy, but he snapped it back with the stock in his shoulder. There was no time to calibrate the scope. A quick glance gave him a look at the encroaching monster far too closely. He squeezed the trigger. Rory Tiernan and the gun system were catapulted from the window. Down the street, the giant scorpion's face disappeared in a cloud of green ichor. It's body scraped along the asphalt, dragging six limp legs and massive claws. The twenty four year old lay against the wall of the half collapsed room with the gun at his feet. Every last speck of dust had been disturbed, filling the air. His hearing was shot, only a high pitched whistle came from both ears. When he tried to get up, pain seared from his broken shoulder. Rory screamed, to him no more than a distant mumble.  
Within the town, Martin Wilson was still pulling other guards together in response to the ruckus. He and two younger Tiernan brothers were near Rory's overwatch building when both the scorpion and his vantage point seemed to explode.  
'Son of a bitch' the older man sighed.  
He directed the brothers, Fergus and Donal, to assist with Crow's caravan, while he ducked into the corner building. A scream rang out from the first floor room as Wilson climbed the stairs. He couldn't help but laugh at the scene before him.  
'I knew you'd jump at the chance to use that massive giant killer lad!'  
Rory glared at him. Martin knew straight away that the kid had been deafened.  
'Come on, let's get you up'  
He pulled Rory up from his left arm and carried him from the building.  
'Donal!' Martin called once back out in the street, 'Get up to your brother's perch, and don't touch the big gun, unless you want a dislocated shoulder too!'  
Donal and Fergus were investigating the giant corpse when the guardmaster called them. Both broke into fits of laughter at their shell shocked older sibling. Fergus ran to help Martin, letting go when he grabbed Rory by the injured side. The oldest brother yelped like a kicked dog.  
Walter Crow finished up tying his calmed pack animals to the trader halt and approached the three guards. His armor was a mismatched and jumbled as his wares, with no two segments from the same set. The right shoulder pauldron was twice the size of the left, solid steel with a black silhouette of his namesake bird.  
'That was some serious boomstick you had up there kid' the trader praised, unaware that Rory still couldn't hear anything.  
'It was a Denel NTW14.5. Damn boy was obsessed with the thing. You just witnessed his first live fire' Martin replied.  
'Well it couldn't have come at a better time. I've never seen big pinchers this close to town before'  
'Me neither Walter. Me neither. Something is changing out there. I don't like it'  
'I think you're right Martin. I need some better hardware for my guys. Big bastards shrug off 7.62s like rain'  
A call came from the guard post in the building again. Martin stepped back, trying to see Donal.  
'Donal? What is it now?'  
'West! Up high! I don't know what it is!'  
All eyes turned outside the town. The winged creature was fast, but slowed up to land on the overpass a mile out.  
'What in the world…?' the old man sighed.  
He left Rory with his brother and pounded the steps once more, slower this time.  
'Give me a hand with this lad'  
Between the two, the Denel antimateriel rifle was hoisted back to the empty window. A large chunk of the frame had been ripped out when Rory fired the weapon. Martin angled the gun on it's bipod and scanned along the road.  
'It's no bird Donal. It's a person. Somebody's got a set of wings'  
The whole town guard assembled at the western end of the high street. Martin rationalised that the winged stranger wouldn't make themselves known like this if they meant the town harm. He made everyone ready regardless. Unknown to him, it was his own daughter approaching the town on foot.  
Tense minutes passed until Samantha came across the dead Radscorpion. Only then was she recognised.  
'Sam? Samantha! Ha, it is you!' Martin bellowed.  
The Tiernan brothers lowered their weapons. Samantha walked slower as her father approached her. She tried to talk but the words caught in her throat. When Martin embraced her she fell apart. Father and daughter cried together.  
'My little Sam. My sweet girl. It's been so long' he blubbed.  
'I'm sorry Dad. I am. I… fucking hell you look so old' she chuckled.  
Her father laughed heartily, broad hands holding her shoulders. Grey hairs were creeping around his ears when she last saw him a year and a half ago. Now it covered his head, with a matched beard.  
'You're only becoming more beautiful. I'm so glad you're home'  
Home. The word resonated through her. Countless times her sister had told her that Tenpenny Tower could be her home if she wished it. Only now, here, from the mouth of her father did it really mean something.  
At Fergus Tiernan's suggestion, townsman Ben Grant was sent to the diner at the other end of the main street. The woman he returned with yelled with excitement at the sight of her daughter's return. Samantha braced herself for Annelise Wilson's barrage of hugs. When she was momentarily done, her daughter asked for the chance to sit down.  
'Yes! Yes of course, come to the diner. Are you hungry? I'll make you whatever you want'  
Canterbury's diner was one of the few eateries in the Wasteland located in an actual former eating establishment. It existed as a continuing monument to the Americana culture of the 1950s. The jukebox still had six working vinyls. Most of the stools were covered in red leather. The floor was still clad in, albeit faded, checkerboard tiles. It had been Annelise's wish to get the exterior neon strips working again, but not until Canterbury had a more reliable power source that salvaged fusion cores.  
The sound of the old rockabilly music swept Samantha through a swirl of memories. The records themselves belonged to her father, who used to play them in the family's suite in Tenpenny. Days spent as a child playing with Kathryn replayed in her head as she sat at the bar sipping tea. She felt like her parents had so many questions but didn't know where to begin. Her mother was serving up the plates of bacon and eggs when she said what would make them the happiest.  
'I stayed with Kathryn for a whole week back in November'  
Her mother squealed and clapped with excitement.  
'Oh I love it when you two get on. How is she? And Francis?'  
'Kath is fine. It's the same old in Tenpenny. Safe and boring'  
'Nothing wrong with that. What have you been up to since then?'  
Samantha took a gulp of her tea, then sighed.  
'I guess I should get this out of the way now. Dad I know you saw how I got here'  
Martin nodded. She released the three clips on her harness, then placed the wing pack on the bar top next to her food.  
'I found our family's old house in DC. The one they had before the war'  
Annelise frowned, puzzled.  
'I put together a lot of clues and hints left by one of your ancestors Mom. Samuel Wilson. He lived quite a life'  
'I think I know who you mean. Wasn't he a pilot?'  
'Kind of. Now, because of him, I am too'  
'You've lost me now Sam. What do you mean?'  
Samantha sighed, and put the harness back on. She pulled her goggles down and walked out of the diner backwards. Her mother got up to follow, only for Martin to hold her hand.  
'You'll want to be sitting for this Anna' he said, smiling.  
The woman almost broke her husband's hand, squeezing it when her daughter sprouted translucent wings and blasted upwards.  
'Martin!? Martin what is she doing? Tell her to come back right now?' she fretted.  
Her husband laughed until he coughed, receiving a slap across the head for the mistimed humor. Samantha touched down gracefully, wings retracting just as she crossed the threshold back into the diner. She retook her place and nonchalantly continued eating breakfast. A smile crept across her face at the sight of her mother's shocked expression.  
'Sam had a set of wings that the Air Force wanted him to test. At the end of his career he hid them. Took a while but I found them'  
Martin laughed again. This time it persevered through Annelise's scolding, and eventually turned tearful. Samantha leaned on her father.  
'What's gotten into you? You never cry Pop'  
'Its just. Ah it's everything. You coming back after disappearing for a year and a half. Getting on well with your sister. You've found your family's legacy. I don't know how else I can express how proud of you I am Samantha'  
Martin rarely used his daughter's full name. She recalled it being used when she misbehaved as a youngster.  
'Thanks Dad. Thank you'  
The family wore smiles as they finished their food. Once done, Samantha felt a weight hanging over her. There was something she had to tell her parents and it would hurt. Her fork touching down on her plate resonated in the silence, followed by her deliberate sigh.  
'I haven't slept with a roof over my head for forty five days'  
Her words carried like a confession long held in.  
'Why not?' came Martin's blunt response.  
She couldn't tell if he was angry or upset or concerned. It was all three. 'Why would you risk yourself like that Sam?'  
Her nails tapped and scratched at the bar top. Suddenly the wings on her back felt light. They promised an escape to a truth she feared. Samantha held on to the bar as if she was being dragged backwards.  
'I'm scared of people' she said, eyes shut tight.  
'You're what?' Annelise asked, softly.  
Her mother's gentle hand grasped Samantha's arm, leant on the bar to prop up her head.  
'I was flitting here and there. Kath probably told you? Doing scav jobs for whoever paid'  
'She did. She worried for you just like we do' Martin confirmed.  
'It was good. The people I salvaged for gave me a bed or food and that was it. I used what I learned to find the Falcon suit. The exception was Kathryn and Gustavo at Tenpenny but I've known them forever. I gave up the job because it the danger was outweighing the reward. You're getting radscorps here. Out west it's worse. Deathclaws are encroaching along supply lines and near small towns. I took on being a courier instead. Meant I just hopped between one town and another. Then one day I come to Rivet City'  
'That old rusty tub? Overrated if you ask me' Martin commented.  
'The gun runner, Stark? He offers to upgrade the EXO-7 with guns, for free'  
'That's nice of him. There must have been a trade-off. There always is with his kind'  
'There wasn't. He was just looking out for me. It scared me. I met someone else too. A girl'  
Samantha paused. Her parents nodded. Relief swelled that they understood what she meant.  
'All of a sudden I get this fear that something will happen to them. I'd lose them just like I lost-'  
Her eyes closed tight. A tear stung her cheek. Annelise moved her hand, entwining her daughter's fingers.  
'I know what you mean Sam. Don't go digging that up again. It's behind you' her mother comforted.  
'Too late'  
The memories took hold. Samantha was nineteen. Her best friend since infancy had left her life just before, leaving her empty. A trader by the name of Garrett Young caught her eye when he passed by Canterbury. The teenager was captivated by the stories of the world outside those buildings. Young offered to take Samantha with him, which she eagerly accepted. Their friendship bloomed as the pair travelled the Wasteland. Despite everpresent danger, they always found their way out alive. Samantha learned how to survive in a deadly environment from Garrett.  
After a year, their luck ran out. Wilson and Young caught the attention of a slaver party ranging out of Paradise Falls. In the ruins of a prestigious academy, Younger engineered a trap for their pursuers at the cost of his life. Samantha was traumatised by the experience, refusing to accept that Garrett sacrificed himself to save her. She returned to Canterbury alone. It took years for her to brave the Wasteland again. When she did, she vowed never to let anyone get close to her.  
Martin tried to take a tougher line with his daughter.  
'People survive by sticking together Sam. What happened to Garrett was terrible but it was his decision to make'  
She expected anger at his name. She expected at least sadness. But there was nothing. Samantha was surprised by how little mention of his name meant to her.  
'People do good things to each other. You probably don't know how much your courier service has meant to people by connecting them'  
'It's just a job dad'  
'To you. How many letters did you pass between friends and family?'  
'You're right' she relented.  
'I know. I'm your Dad. It's my job to be right' he chuckled 'So what will you do now?'  
'Do you have room for me here?'  
'Of course! We have your stuff from your room here in case you came to stay'  
Samantha was dumbstruck.  
'You kept it all here?'  
'We knew you were never a fan of that place Sam. We hoped you would want to stay here with us when you got tired of blazing trails'  
'Are you having fun making me ugly cry?' Samantha blubbed, 'Yes, I think I'll stay here a while'  
*  
Rory was laid up on the sofa in the house he shared with his siblings. The pain in his shoulder was too much for him to fall asleep. Instead, he settled for reading the sole book on the shelf. It was a strangely relatable tome called 'The Road'. Three hours after the debacle with the Radscorpion, he was surprised to see Samantha kick the unbolted front door in.  
'There he is. Rory the Scorp Slayer'  
At first he didn't recognise her.  
'Woah, hey lady. I don't want trouble' he said, awkwardly getting to his feet.  
'Trouble? Me? Rory fucking Tiernan you know me well'  
'Wait... Samantha?'  
'The one and only. How's it been my guy?'  
Rory sat back down. The young woman perched next to him.  
'I'm absolutely tanked on Med-X and wondering if you're really here' he mumbled.  
'Yeah I'm here you fucking junkie. Not everyone gets to obliterate a giant scorpion and get high as a kite in the same day'  
'This is my first time on this Chem, Samantha. Trust me. You think I'd be allowed to work under your Dad with a drug problem?'  
'I'm messing with you Roz. No sweat. Killing a pincher that big took balls. I'm proud of you'  
'Me? It was Stark's big gun that did it... speaking of Tony Stark, Fergus said he kitted you out with some wings?'  
Rory sounded more delirious as he went on.  
'Ha, no. The wings were mine already. He just gave me some guns to work with it'  
'Niiiice' he slurred, 'what pieces?'  
'Two Steyr TMPs. You know them?'  
'I think so. I flick through SRP's catalogue like a kid at...damn it's Christmas today isn't it Sam?'  
'It's what?'  
Even in his state, Rory gazed at her in absolute surprise.  
'You don't know what Christmas is? When families get together and give each other gifts and all that sort of stuff'  
Vague recollections of similar celebrations taking place in the tower came back to her.  
'Well I've got the family part done. Not sure about the gift thing'  
'I'm sure Martin and Anna consider your safe return a gift in itself'  
In his head, Rory was impressed by his own tact at the statement. It did the job. Samantha nodded in agreement.  
'You got a point kid. Mom and Dad probably know of the holiday so I'll really drive it home. I'm home for a holiday. The favourite child, clearly'  
'They haven't seen Kathryn since leaving the tower so it's a low bar Sam'  
'If you were here two days ago, you'd think otherwise'  
Samantha learned close to Rory, eyes narrowed.  
'What do you mean?'  
'A trade cart turned up, courtesy of Kathryn and Francis Carter. Enough ammo to keep Mitch good for a year. Couple of pristine M4 carbines. This town's got enough firepower to level Olney if we wished'  
The woman's mood dropped. Her sister had used her wealth to show her up once again.  
'Well. Fuck. Fuck it, buying shit doesn't compare to actually showing up so I win here really'  
Rory had passed out, leaned back on the ripped sofa. Samantha sighed and got up to leave


	13. Fort Bannister - 30th December 2277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark gets humbled.

The lights glared in Tony's eyes. Flashes of yellow filled his vision. As he blinked, the bare grey ceiling materialised. He was laid down on something soft. A gurney? He thought. At first he assumed he was in Rivet City hospital. Far too many mornings he had come too here after a heavy bender. Something felt different in his chest. Something was wrong. Fingers traced from his side up to the sternum and hit metal. He wandered why a metal disc had been left on his chest. It wouldn't budge. Before he could apply more pressure on the round object, another hand intervened.  
'You don't want to touch that Mr Stark'  
The voice was unfamiliar to him. Tahir Singh gently moved Tony's hand back to his side. The diminishing anaesthetic meant the reclined man gave no resistance.   
'Who are you?' Stark questioned.  
'I am Doctor Singh. I saved your life'  
'From what?'  
'You do not remember. I think it is better that way'  
'Nope. Ignorance ain't my thing Doc. Where is Preston?'  
'I don't know who that is'  
The name of Rivet City's chief physician meant nothing to Singh, as they were not on the ship.  
'What do you mean? Where am I?'  
'You are in Fort Bannister. You are experiencing the hospitality of Talon Company'  
'Well...shit. what did I do to deserve that?'  
As his senses fully returned, Tony noticed wires trailing from the metal device on his chest to a rusted fusion battery on a table.  
'Actually, forget the why. What the hell is on my chest?' he asked.  
'I can answer both Mr Stark' to doctor said, wiping his glasses with a cloth. 'You were supposed to close on a trade deal with the Company, correct?'  
'Yeah I uh…'  
Stark's memory was hazy still. He recalled leaving Rivet City but that's where the gap starts.  
'Talon's commander, Lucian Jabsco, had other ideas. He had a trap set at the intended redezvous at Jury Street. Your guards put up more of a fight than he intended. One of the Talon idiots fired an RPG to end the fight'  
Stark remembered the two men that accompanied him. Farrant and Westaway. He didn't tell them the true nature of his journey this far west.  
'The fellas with me. Did they get caught too?'  
'No Mr Stark they are dead. You would be too if not for me'  
'What have you done to me Singh?'  
'The rocket that killed your guards caught you with shrapnel. Fragments from your body armor were driven into your chest. That device is an electromagnet. It's stopping the hundreds of pieces getting to your heart and killing you'  
Tony looked at the metal disc for a long time. With a finger he traced around it, feeling the sewn scars that dotted his chest. Each one brought back a flash of the battle. He saw the rocket burst tear through the two Rangers a half second before he fell. The feeling like fire punching his chest came back. He lay amongst the fire and rubble until the Talon ambushers converged on him, blood drenching his shirt.  
'I must apologise for what happened to your clothes Tony. They looked very expensive'  
'A small price for survival a guess. So Jabsco wanted me alive. Why?'  
'You are the chief merchant of death and despair in the Capital, but you are also gifted with all things mechanical. The commander wants you to build something. A weapon'  
'Why don't people ask politely any more? Nobody had to die. Just pay the right price'  
'Jabsco has no intention of recompensing you for your work, neither does he mine. We work exclusively for Talon now. Stark. Holding you here as their armorer will give them an edge over rivals'  
Tony sat up, still not used to the foreign object in his chest. He pulled the heavy fusion battery and wiped dirt from the charge readout.  
'I have a bigger fish to fry right now Doc. This thing's got a week left in it at most, and by the looks of it, Jabsco's boys don't have a lot of them lying around'  
A heavy fist slammed against the door to Stark's recovery room before the Commander entered. Lucian Jabsco was a stocky, thick set man rarely seen out of his black armor. As a sign of bad faith respect, he removed the polished metal helmet and nodded at Tony. The commanders voice was as deep and rough as Stark expected.  
'My apologies for your accident Mr Stark. It pains me to see such a gifted man as yourself laid up like this'  
'Accidents don't usually involve RPGs baldy. People are going to be looking for me'  
Lucian didn't respond to the slight.  
'I'm sure they will be. Such a renowned businessman is bound to have countless friends'  
Mention of the last word brought only two people to Tony's mind. James Rhodes had been busy in Germantown for longer than usual. The last time he spoke with the soldier, he was wrangling with two fresh recruits that had supposedly escaped Vault 101. Pepper Potts, he thought, would probably have more success running the business alone. Once stock ran out, Stark's expertise and weapon building secrets will be missed. He wondered if she would miss him as a friend or just as a colleague.  
'Alright soldier boy. What do you want me to do? I'll get it done and you let me go right?'  
'Of course...Tony' Jabsco hissed.  
Neither Stark or Singh felt reassured by the commander's response, but it's all they had.  
'You've already betrayed me and, by the looks of it, only postponed my death. Your word better mean something'  
Stark tried his best to sound menacing, but it fell flat in his weakened state. Jabsco only chortled.  
'Whatever. What is it you want boss?'  
'Finally Tony. Asking the right questions. You have a mind of mechanics and machinery. This base was once a repair depot for the US armored division. Somewhere amongst the preserved wrecks is the means to bring a tank to working conditions. You will do it for us'  
*  
Tony almost collapsed at the sight of the vehicle yard. Despite being so far underground, the wide open space where damaged tanks, Jeeps, and APCs was the largest enclosed room he'd ever seen. Even from the first floor mezzanine he could only just see the end to the rows of wrecks. Tahir moved to support him before Stark, clutching the fusion battery keeping him alive, laughed at his own jest.  
'For a man perpetually on the verge of death, I am surprised your sense of humor perseveres' the Doctor noted.  
Tony already had so many ideas and plans running through his head. He descended to the floor level and wandered through the narrow aisles, careful not to catch himself on countless sharp edges.  
'So I'm guessing you're no fan of Jabsco eh Tahir?'  
Singh was surprised that Tony knew his first name.  
'You know me?'  
'Sorry it took a while. As the boss said, I meet at lot of people. I met you once. Must have been Rivet City back when I first started there'  
'I am impressed Tony. Truly. You are correct that I was a junior doctor, learning under The city's CMO. Once I earned the white coat I moved to Girdershade, where my services were needed in the small town'  
'That's where they abducted you?'  
'It was. I agreed to be taken so they would spare my wife and son. It's been six months now'  
Tony stopped near an armored car. He leaned against the vehicle and put a hand on Tahir's shoulder.  
'You hold on to seeing them again?'  
'Its what keeps me alive Stark'  
'You're going to. Just trust me and do exactly what I say'  
Tony had noticed just how much dust had gathered on the wrecks. Enough the ascertain that Talon had given up trying to fix them long ago. The guards assigned to them had little to no mechanical expertise, something Tony devised a small test just to make sure.  
Tahir called for assistance from the armed men after Tony feigned fatigue from the recent surgery. Neither knew the difference between a tank and an APC, nor knew the names of basic vehicle components.  
Tony and Tahir used chalk markings on wrecks known only to them to send coded messages, fooling whoever watched them through the surveillance cameras.  
One work site was set up where they worked very slowly to repair a broken Abrams tank. Stark intentionally selected one with very serious issues that would give them weeks to work on a secondary project.  
In the enclosed space in the back of a Bradley IFV, Stark drew out the plans of a device he had seen only once. Six months ago, he visited his father in his covert laboratory. He remembered it clearly. All he needed were very specific components. Such parts were sourced with an efficiency that worried Tahir.  
'You work like a man possessed Tony. How could you know where to find these things?'  
The doctor stood over Stark, holding a torch as he wrestled copper wires free from a radio set in a Humvee cabin. The wires were coiled and arranged in a ring around a central node. Isotope tubes orbited the ring. Gradually, although looking far less polished, Tony had replicated his father's Arc reactor. The most vital part was also the hardest to source, taking several days of meticulously disassembling missiles.  
'What is it we are trying to find in these explosives Tony?'  
'These smart munitions have minute amounts of palladium, about a tenth of a gram in the guidance chip. I need minimum two grams to fuel this miniature reactor'  
A week had passed since Tony regained consciousness. The fusion battery had one bar remaining out of the ten on the display. The Arc reactor was finished, but just needed a boost to activate. Tony knew this would have to work or he was dead. He talked Tahir through the vital steps one final time.  
'So we're going to disconnect the fusion battery from my electromagnet. You have to ignore the fact that I will start to die while it jump starts the reactor. It should take about thirty seconds. Whatever happens to me in that time, you keep it connected until it glows blue'  
'I will do that Tony'  
'Promise me Tahir. I know it will go against everything you believe as a doctor. You have to hurt me to save me. Then we can work on escaping'  
Tahir washed his hands and splashed his face using the barrel of potable water left for them. His mind swirled. One part of him considered Stark to be a madman. The other had a growing respect. He was, regardless, their best hope of getting out of the base. If Stark perished, Jabsco would have very little need for a doctor with his expertise.  
Tony lay waiting on the bench seat in the back of the carrier. His face was mixed anticipation and nerves. It was hard to think he was bordering on death once again. His only saving Grace was that this time it was entirely on his terms.  
'Go on Doc. Now or never' he urged Tahir.  
Singh sighed, cleared his throat, and proceeded. Tony immediately reacted to the power being pulled from the magnet. He tried to give encouraging words to the doctor, but could only grunt as his heart came under attack. The power was applied to the Arc reactor. It whirred into life, giving flashes of pulsing white light. Singh began to count in his head. In the corner of his eye, Stark began to shake. Still he tried to talk, getting out a single word amongst the garbled nonsense and flecks of spit.  
'Blue...blue' he groaned.  
Tahir had to close his eyes, blocking out the dying man he was forbidden to help. Twenty excruciating seconds passed. Blue light began to beat between the white flashes.  
'twenty eight, twenty nine. Thirty! Thirty!' he yelled.  
Shaking. Hands were steadied. Singh pulled the extra wires from Stark's magnet and attached them to the pure blue pulsing arc reactor. The veins around Tony's chest had turned black, his skin a pallid white. Once connected, the colour returned. Sweat coated his face, which Singh cleared with a wet cloth. The lying man gasped painfully, but grateful that air still filled his lungs. He pointed weakly, directing the Doctor to affix the reactor to his chest. The round objects lined up perfectly.  
'Thank you Doctor' Stark sighed.  
'I have met some crazy people in my time Tony. You though? You are a different breed'  
'Thank you very much'  
To Singh's surprise, Tony got up. He was no longer shackled to a heavy battery by trailing wires.  
'You really should rest' he urged.  
'No chance. Conservative estimates put this thing at an output of ten gigajoules per second. It could power this magnet for ten years with the two g's of Palladium'  
'So why the hurry?'  
'Because it could also power something big for fifteen minutes'


	14. Ranger Compound, Seward Square - 7th January 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merc leader Reilly Tiernan gets on Stark's trail

The air in the base was uneasy. Reilly and her company had lost men before, killed in action. They could recover bodies, bury them, and mourn. Rangers going missing was always cause for more concern. It had been a week since two of Reilly's most trusted soldiers went on what should have been a simple escort job out to Megaton with Tony Stark.  
Reilly Tiernan had barely slept. Stark gave them a time frame of a half day to Megaton, overnight stay, then half day return to Rivet. She had comms officers pulling double duty, listening for any word of Matthew Farrant or Luke Westaway's whereabouts. Even mention of anyone in their signature green and tan armor being sighted. She stayed in the radio room, refusing to leave operator Yara Selwyn during the day or Harris Dutton at night. She felt hypocritical to have them work such long hours alone.  
When the two soldiers failed to report back from Megaton, she cancelled all active operations immediately. All six squads returned to the sprawling subterranean bunker under the flattened office building in Seward Square. Despite their protests, she took no heed. The half dozen, ten man, groups assembled in the mustering room to listen to her address. Despite being shorter than the burly men that made up her mercenary crew, the red haired leader commanded absolute silence when she spoke.  
'I don't care what your op was. You bury it. We had two guys on a simple job. Rivet to Megaton. They checked in at Arlington Bridge and Grayditch. That means they got out of DC without incident'  
Hard eyes stayed on the woman, stood on an ammunition crate to be seen as well as heard.  
'Captain Moyes, your last job had you near Springvale. What was the situation on the ground?'  
'It was quiet ma'am' the tall bearded officer replied. 'School raiders are busy. Digging in their basement for something'  
'Right. An unlikely avenue of thought is that they diverted from the agreed route. We get proactive now. Contact everywhere from Canterbury to Girdershade for any sighting of Rangers in our get up. If raiders whacked them, they would definitely loot the armor'  
Reilly turned her attention to Jessica Watts, chief officer of her covert ops Delta squad.  
'Corporal Watts'  
'Yes ma'am' the woman barked.  
'Go deep cover. No uniforms. Go to Megaton and Rivet. Twist some arms if you need to. If anyone knows anything and doesn't want to tell, you make them sing'  
Reilly finally turned to the group she personally headed up. The team she founded the whole Rangers organisation with.  
'Alpha team, gear up. We're gonna hunt a high level Talon fuck and question him. Every time something goes awry, we can trace it back to those obsidian armored assholes. Be ready to hit the Capitol Building in twenty'  
'Yes ma'am' her inner circle called in unison.  
*  
Reilly's squad formed up on the bulkhead door to the surface. Every one of the ten men and women had been with her since the beginning of the Rangers four years ago. They were the ones that took the hardest contracts, jumping into circles of hell and getting out together. Each member could tell the story of every scar on one another. All ten had no qualm striking out on a personal mission to hit their sworn enemies.  
Talon Company mercenaries had spent the past few months trying to keep a foothold in the middle of the city. Their interest in the Capitol building was a passion project ordered by Jabsco himself. If they could take the most significant building left in DC, their reputation would reach for miles around. The reality was far from it. Bands of Super Mutants already held the building, as well as large tracts of the national Mall. Talon soldiers found themselves in prolonged trench warfare, followed by vicious hand to hand combat inside the former seat of Congress. Mutants, always spoiling for a fight to display their superiority to humans, converged from all over the DC just to take on the battle hardened soldiers in black armor.  
The open park of Seward was host to lesser levels of the same violence. Mutant gangs from the eastern boroughs like Takoma Park regularly engaged Talon units holding the rear steps of the Capitol. The long standing and bloody rivalry between the two is what made the Rangers' base of operations completely ignored. Reilly never jeopardised her faction's safety by directly engaging either group tearing at each other just above their heads. Today she would break that unwritten truce. The late winter dawn was the ideal moment to strike. The hardening frost and Sub zero temperatures had brought a regular cease fire, one the Rangers had every intention of capitalising on.  
Reilly left the safety of the bunker first. She watched her cold breath drift in the still air. It's all she heard. The group leader smiled under the dark wool mask.  
'Okay alpha, we have total surprise. Proceed'   
Ten pairs of heavy boots made scant noise over cracked tarmac and rubble mounds. Even the ever changing layout of war torn buildings didn't slow the squad down. Scout drones were sent topside daily to keep the borough's topography mapped. Before long, they made visual contact with encamped Talon elements. Every ranger had a throat mic to keep communication quiet.  
'You know their signatures guys. We're looking for anyone with three chevrons on the shoulder. Isolate a group and waste anyone underranked. We don't have time for niceties' Reilly hissed.  
The squad quickly gathered solid Intel on the unaware mercs. Night vision attachments made target acquisition swift. Six Rangers confirmed differing targets, ready for Reilly's call.  
'Alpha we are good for go or no go. Six hostiles dropped in two seconds. Romeo one through four will move to secure HVT'  
She sounded calm. Her mind was clear but heart pounded and sweat on her brow tingled in the cold dawn.  
'Go'  
Six shots from six guns made little more than a snap of a finger each. Everyone in black armor save for a single man fell without a word. Reilly, Dan Lawson, Donovan Lau, and Hera Saffisdottir were on the survivor in a heartbeat. The grey haired officer had a hand on his sidearm, still holstered.  
'God fucking damn it' he cursed under his breath.  
The pistol was taken by Hera, unloaded, and put in her pocket. Even the sound of a weapon discarded would have been too much. She also relieved him of a knife and three frag grenades. Their captive's hands were bound, mouth gagged, and head covered by a hood. Ranger Lau affixed a timed explosive to the tied loop of grenades and left them amongst the bodies.  
The last Ranger to re-enter the compound was Reilly. She halted, looking at her watch as crimson began to cut across the dark blue sky. The explosion ripped through Seward. Within moments, a chorus of gunfire, further detonations, and the demented howls of Mutants filled the air. She closed the door, back into darkness and silence.  
Officer Marcus Royce, of third platoon Talon Company, waited patiently for his world to be more than silent darkness. He was hurried through corridors and down stairs then placed in a chair.  
'Hey shitbag. Do you know where you are?' a voice asked him.  
'Hmm. I have a few ideas, yes' he replied curtly.  
A boot was placed flat on Royce's chest, before it pushed him backwards. His head swirled when it hit the rough concrete floor, but he made no sound. He felt something cold spreading across the cloth bag covering his face.  
'Waterboarding? Really?' he spluttered after the first bucket was emptied over him. 'Not really Rangers style'  
He was pulled up to sit upright, only to be punched over again.  
'I think you're forgetting to ask me questions. Are you new to interrogation?' he spat, tasting blood.  
'You know, that's a good idea. I thought we'd just kill all your buddies and take you just for the hell of it' Lawson laughed. 'Tony Stark hired two of our guys to go to Megaton. They never arrived. Know anything about it?'  
'Yes actually. Its vitally important that a field officer in Seward knows if we grabbed a fucking arms dealer ten miles out of town'  
Lau used his impressive stature to hoist the Talon merc off his feet against the wall.  
'So you know he was taken? What about the Rangers with him?'  
'I heard radio chatter. It's old news. Your lads are dead in a dumpster in Jury Street'  
Donovan's eyes flicked from the masked man to Daniel Lawson, then Reilly. The woman had been silent until then.  
'Bullshit. Why Jury Street?'  
'Because that's where Jabsco agreed to meet Stark, and ambush him. He was taken alive. Your soldiers fought well but were ultimately expendable. They're mole rat food by now'  
Reilly had heard enough. With a wave of her hand, Donovan threw the man hard. The chair that had held him broke apart. Still hooded and hogtied, Royce was left on the ground as the two men filed out. Reilly followed, then paused at the door. Thinking for a moment she turned and shot the lying figure. Blood trickled through the smoking hole in his hood.  
In the corridor her two squadmates waited.  
'Do we believe what he said?' she asked them.  
'He knew he was dead as soon as we took him. Does that make a man more or less trustworthy?' Lau responded.  
'We'll go to Jury Street and find out. Recon drones can watch for an ambush. If he's right, then Stark is most likely being held in Fort Bannister'  
'We going to spring him Commander?'  
'He can fucking rot. He went off piste and we lost two good men. Recall Delta, they'll come with us. I want to be in Megaton within two days'


	15. Germantown - 9th January 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodes puts his career on the line for his friend

The perimeter wall of Germantown was almost exactly two and a half kilometers all the way around. Two circuits made an ideal morning run for Rebecca. The first dawn after arriving at the military town, she decided to begin her own fitness regime. Steve came with her but was banned from doing so afterwards. Rogers could sustain the kind of sprint meant for short dashes. He completed six laps of the base in the half hour it took her to run two. She sat against a flagpole by the gate just as the sun rose, sweating, cold, and out of breath. Steve finished his sixth circuit and rejoined her.  
'Nothing personal Rogers' she gasped, 'But you can do that in your own time'  
'Okay sure. But why?'  
'Its not your fault. Let me preface. It's just a little demotivating to be overtaken three times by a guy that once passed out lifting a twenty k dumbbell'  
'Ha, I remember that. I only did it to impress you'  
Rebecca laughed, then coughed. She continued chuckling quietly looking at the ground.  
'I believe you. And I was a little impressed. Impressed by how much of a dummy you are'  
'Glad to see the serum hasn't changed that part of me'  
Rebecca smiled, and reached a hand up. Steve deftly pulled the woman to her feet.  
'Of course not Steve. There was absolutely no need for you to flip that truck over in Springvale. The smile on your face after said it all'  
'I wanted to find the limits of my strength. You didn't have to watch me so closely'  
Becky closed her eyes and sighed gently, taking a few steps to stand just before him. Her hand stroked his right arm before entwining his fingers in hers.  
'Look I'm not gonna lie and pretend your new physique isn't doing anything for me, but it's the person inside that I like. That sweet guy that's been by my side through it all'  
Rebecca's thoughts drifted back years. Over a decade before, a fast spreading virus had torn through the Vault sector where she lived with her parents. Every effort to prevent the disease spreading failed, until Overseer Almodovar and chief physician Rumlow agreed that isolation was the only option. Rebecca had been hanging out with Steve when the order was given to seal off all of habitation sector 2, himself quarantined to his family's quarters. It was the closest the Vault came to total collapse. Two hundred people were condemned to die in isolation.  
A guard arrived to coldly tell the thirteen year old girl that she would never see her parents alive again. That was it. The officer simply left. Rogers' took his dumbfounded friend to the nearest access point to the doomed sector, picking up a socket wrench on the way. The blast resistant doors were too thick for voices to be heard, but not a strike from the tool. Despite the scared girl's protests, Steve pounded at the metal in morse code until he got a response. Alwyn and Ophelia Barnes spent their final hours talking to their daughter through metal strikes and Steve's translations. A second guardsman found the two teenagers and brought them food and blankets to ease Rebecca's ordeal. Four hours after the pair arrived, a final message came through. Becky was laid in her friends arms, her tears spent despite her father's reassurances. Steve's jaw clenched as the last strike rang out.  
'Becky...hey, come on, stay with me'  
She stirred, pulling his arm across her chest.  
'Your dad says… He's says he'll see you again soon'  
She remembers standing up without a word, taking the wrench from Steve. She hit the door with no rhythm and with increasing ferocity until her arm was jarred, wrist red and swollen. When Becky could no longer hold the tool she just screamed into Steve's chest until her throat gave out.  
Rebecca Barnes made two decisions. The compassion of the second guard, whose name she didn't catch, inspired her to join the force years later. The second was a vow. The following morning she woke up on the cold steel floor next to Rogers. Her voice was raspy, body ached. The girl woke Steve and looked into his eyes with an intensity beyond her years.  
'You're so nice Steve. You didn't have to stay with me but you did. I'm always in your debt'  
'You're my friend Becky. It's what friends do'  
'Whatever you need, I'll be here. I'm with you to the end of the line'  
The words seemed innocuous to her at the time, but resonated with Steve.   
Two months of rigorous training had changed both of them. Despite being allowed to share living quarters, Steve and Becky worked with separate units due to her prior experience with firearms and combat. The life of a soldier in a Wasteland town was so far removed from their lives in the Vault. Regular doses of a concoction called Radaway had to be administered to counteract the background radiation before it made Rebecca sick. Their pipboys kept a running count of their radiation levels. At first, Steve thought his device was broken. A squad medic giving him a once over with a geiger counter revealed another perk of his physical enhancement; total immunity to the effects of radiation.  
'Well I'll be damned. You've got all the best parts of being a Super Mutant without being angry and yellow' Medic Jeffords exclaimed in his surgery tent. Rebecca was reeling from the drowsy effects of Radaway on a gurney nearby when Rogers got the news.  
'Shame it didn't stop you being stupid Rogers' she groaned and laughed weakly.  
The two Vault exiles acquainted themselves well with their squads, even though the raw recruits found Steve a little intimidating. He towered over them, and always finished minutes ahead during distance training. When it came to team working and squad tactics he endeared himself. Rogers instinctively put the needs of the team ahead of himself. During an impromptu tour of the training ground by General Schwartz, Rhodes threw a dummy explosive as the group stretched.  
'Grenade!' the colonel yelled.  
When all others ran and dropped to the ground, Steve dived on the fake frag, screaming for others to stay away. Schwartz nodded approvingly at his selflessness and moved on.  
Around two months after joining, both the Colonel and General had seen enough. One icy morning, Steve found Rebecca at the end of her usual run.  
'Hey, there you are. What time are you getting now?' he asked.  
'Down to twenty eight minutes and forty seconds. What's got you out so early?'  
'Rhodes found me, told me to find you and report to the General's office. Formal dress'  
The soldiers of Germantown reused and passed down the supply of combat and dress uniforms found in the base when the formerly nomadic group settled there three decades before. It meant that Steve and Rebecca's uniforms were slightly mismatched and incorrectly sized. Still, it was the first time either had worn ties, requiring instructions from their fellow soldiers on how to wear them. The tan coloured shirts under green dress coats gave both a sense of pride and belonging. Rebecca expressed how strange it was to wear a skirt and leggings.  
'So people would wear different clothes every day?'  
'I think so. At least when were on operations and training here, everyone dresses the same. Anything else would just get tiresome' Steve responded.  
His gaze at Becky lingered just long enough for her to blush.  
'What?' she asked, giggling, 'What is it? Is my tie wonky?'  
'Nothing, you just look amazing'  
'Thanks dummy. You look stupid'  
His eyes rolled when she bent over laughing at him. Catching her breath she took his arm and led him from the small room.  
Colonel James Rhodes was early, waiting outside the General's office. The ranking ceremony had come around quicker than he expected, so fast that he hadn't explained how promotions are assigned in Germantown. Steve and Becky arrived, taking on their commanding officer's blue suit. It was the first time wearing his dress attire in their presence, and expected one question.  
'Good morning Rhodes. You don't like the usual green?' Becky quipped.  
'Aha no. My lineage traces back to the Air Force. For that they let me use the uniform from that armed forces branch. Do you two know why you're here?'  
'No idea. We got our garb right though yeah?' Rogers queried.  
'Excellent. You both look great. I'm glad you're here in good time. There's a bit of background to give on what's about to happen'  
The pair nodded. Rhodes continued.  
'So when my predecessors came here, their grasp of language was iffy at best. Reading and writing wasn't high on the list for nomads living on the eastern seaboard. They settled in this base, ending a century on the move. The ranks within the old US armed forces signified importance. It became central to our martial society.  
Once you proved yourself as a formidable soldier, a name was chosen for you at random. The only one that kept it's former etymology was General. He's always the leader. Everyone starts as a private. If they're still kicking long enough, it's just as likely they'll become a Lieutenant as a Corporal. It's just another word for a graduated fighter of Germantown'  
'That's pretty cool actually' Becky admitted, 'So we're getting names?'  
'As honorary soldiers of Germantown, you are. Let's go'  
The trio returned the General's standing salute as they entered his office. A heavy snow had begun to hammer down in the wide window behind Schwartz's desk.  
'Welcome, and good morning Private Rogers and Private Barnes'  
'Good morning General' they responded as one.  
They stood straight, heads held high, with arms behind their backs.   
'Your time here has been brief but you have both made serious waves. Barnes, your fieldcraft is phenomenal for someone so new to the world'  
'Thank you, sir'  
'Rogers told me you were limited to 10mm N99 pistols in the Vault. Now you are a promising marksmen. A natural longshot. Corporal Rhen at the range gave you a glowing appraisal. Private Barnes, step forward and select your rank'  
The General gestured to an open topped ammunition box on his desk. It was full of dog tags engraved with every possible title. She reached in, feeling around in an attempt to guess what each one said. Finally her fingers settled on one. Before she looked, Schwartz held her wrist and looked into her eyes.  
'Know that you will carry this for the rest of your life. It comes before all. It is our way, and we bestow it upon you with honour'  
'Understood Sir' she barked, then turned the small metal plates around.  
'Master Sergeant Rebecca Barnes. Congratulations' the General announced.  
Becky placed the tags in her coat pocket, the chain hanging free. She saluted and stood back level with Steve. She felt a strange pride that her new title was three ranks higher than the one she attained in the Vault security force.  
'Private Rogers. You came to us with no weaponry or combat experience which frankly beggars belief, but we're not here to judge your origins. I have pieced together tidbits of info through the grapevine despite little close contact with you, such is the way in our populous town. I had trouble believing you were an enhanced metahuman but you brushed aside all doubts.  
It's not your strength, stamina, speed, or resilience that impressed me. It's simply how little your physical superiority affects how you treat your fellow man. Your understanding of your place within a team is a strength, as is your eagerness to leap in harm's way for your brothers and sisters in arms. Private Rogers, step forward and select your rank'  
He repeated the action with Steve, only his hand only just got around Rogers' wrist.  
'Know that you will carry this for the rest of your life. It comes before all. It is our way, and we bestow it upon you with honour'  
'Understood Sir'  
He opened his palm to view the tags.  
'Captain Steve Rogers. Congratulations'  
Rogers, Barnes, and Rhodes remained steely faced until Schwartz finished the ceremonials and had them continue about their day.  
Back in the hallway, Steve felt like he could breath properly again. Rebecca only laughed at him.  
'Nice going Rogers. Zero to an actual Captain in less than six months' she joked.  
'Yeah, says the idiot who went from Sergeant to fancy Sergeant in the same amount of time' he shot back.  
'Hey, you two reached the ranked cadre quicker than a lot of people' Rhodes interjected, 'You should both be proud of what you achieved'  
Steve composed himself and offered a hand to the Colonel.  
'We owe to our mentor. Thank you James'  
'Don't sweat it Captain. To let you in on a secret' Rhodes said, leaning close, 'I made Colonel in half the time'  
Rogers only nodded.  
'Perfectly well deserved'  
'Thank you very much. Now get back into your fatigues. Physical training begins in fifteen!'  
*  
Two days after the ranking ceremony, Rhodes was approached by a messenger private while observing recruits on the assault course.  
'Colonel Rhodes, there's a radio call for you in the comms room' Private Etienne Sands wheezed.  
James followed him, insisting on a slower pace to as not to give the young man a heart attack. In the small shack at the base of the leaning radio mast, he requested privacy from the duty operator when Potts's worried voice came through the headset.  
'Woah, woah Pepper, steady on. Talk slowly. Go from the top' he said slowly.  
'It's Tony' she said, voice shaking, 'He's been gone for two weeks now'  
'Gone where? He goes missing all the time, you know what he's like. Probably shacked up with some eyelash fluttering chick from Olney again'  
'No, it's not like that. James you have to help' she urged.  
'I'm not scheduled base leave for another three months. Tell me everything you know'  
'He called those two Rangers again, the ones that got him to his Dad's place in the city'  
'Okay'  
'Told them he wanted to go to Megaton on the twenty sixth but I found something else. Well, JARVIS did. Tony was in contact with Lucian Jabsco. The guy from-'  
'Talon Company' he spat, cutting her off, 'What the hell is he doing talking to them?'  
'I don't know but there's something else. Two days ago, Rangers struck out from their compound in Seward. I think they're going to Megaton to find out what happened to their two missing guys'  
'That's not a good sign. Rangers gotta have a good reason to go out in force. I'll put a call in to a friend in Megaton, see what I can find out'  
'Thanks Rhodey. Be careful'  
'Don't you worry about me Pepper. Everything okay in the rusty tub?'  
'Yes, good. Business is good even though my people skills aren't all that'  
'Good to hear. I'll fill you in with anything I find'  
Rhodes pulled a small notebook of names and frequencies from his camoflaged pants. Tracing a finger down a path halfway in he found who he was after. The dial was turned until a voice answered.  
'This is Lucas Simms. Talk. I don't have all day' the deep voice demanded.  
'Is this how you greet an old brother Lucas?'  
'Rhodes? Hot damn it has been some time. What's up?'  
'Heard through a friend that you have Rangers visiting your little patch of sunshine. That true?'  
'You got that right brother. Reilly herself is headed up two ten man teams. Got them here at the barracks for an overnight'  
'Can I request five minutes to talk to her? Say it's from one soldier to another'  
'Sure thing. Give me a moment'  
James's fingers refused to cease tapping on the wooden table top as he waited anxiously. There was a shuffle of movement in his headset, then a woman spoke.  
'This is Reilly. Who hails?'  
'Colonel James Rhodes, of Germantown'  
'How can I be of assistance Colonel?'  
'I have it on good authority that an acquaintance of mine, Tony Stark, has gone missing after hiring the services of your company?'  
'Yes he has. Son of a bitch lied to us and has likely gotten two good men killed'  
'Shit' James cursed under his breath, knowing full well that Reilly would hear him.  
'What do you know of his whereabouts Reilly?'  
'We took a Talon officer in Seward. Says Jabsco has him locked up in Bannister. I'm going to Jury Street where my guys were allegedly ambushed to recover their bodies. Stark can stay right where he is for what he's done. Reilly out'  
James sighed. His head dropped into his hands on the table.  
'God damn you Stark'  
*  
The knock on the door was loud enough to wake Rebecca but not Steve. The room was still bathed in a dim orange glow from the dying fire in the wood burner. She waited until a second restrained knock came before moving. Lifting Steve's arm she slipped from the bed, throwing his large dress coat around her shoulders. It had been draped over a chair near the fire and fell almost to her knees. It was all she had on but was enough to keep her covered when she answered the door.  
'Colonel Rhodes?'  
'Sssh. Keep it down. Where is Rogers?'  
'Still sleeping, what's going on?'  
'I'm only asking you two this because you have the smallest stake in this town, and you can back out at any time'  
Behind Becky, Steve had stirred and pulled his pants on. He stood behind her, buckling his belt.  
'Late night Op, Colonel?'  
'Something like that. Totally off the books and likely to get me imprisoned. A friend of mine has been taken by a bunch of mercs called Talon Company'  
'Name rings a bell. Opposite side of the coin to the Rangers?' Rebecca responded.  
'Yes, only my idiot friend has angered them, so his only real chance of rescue is me'  
'Make that 'us' Colonel' Rogers said firmly.  
Rebecca looked at him and smiled. She knew this was what he'd been waiting for since emerging from 101.  
'Agreed' She added, 'Captain Rogers and Master Sergeant Barnes are at your command'  
'Great, he hissed, passing them a travel bag with guns, body armor, ammunition, and helmets, 'Your first order is to get dressed, get geared up, and meet me at the west gate in ten minutes'  
In the weak orange light he saw them both salute him. As James returned briefly to his quarters to make final preparations to his gear, the doubt began to cloud his head. We're going to one of the most heavily fortified bases in the Capital Wasteland, he thought. An aging man, and two complete newbies to this deadly environment. One only fired a gun for the first time eight weeks ago.  
'And you think Stark is the crazy one' he mumbled to himself.  
The night air was still and piercing cold. He hand managed to find removable shoe spikes to affix once outside. Last thing he wanted was to fall over on ice in the dark trying to escape his own faction.  
Becky and Steve were similarly equipped, and awaited him in the shadows between spotlights at the west wall.  
'Okay, stick to night vision until we're clear of the gate approach, then we can use torches' he instructed.  
The three of them flicked down the goggles, each getting a faint green glow around their eyes. Only days before did the two Vault exiles receive training on how to use the devices. They climbed an unattended stair to the top of the wall, then lowered a rope down the fifteen foot drop outside. Rhodes lead the way, followed by Rebecca. Once the two we're clear, Steve released the grappling hook, secured it to his pack, then jumped down to them without hesitation. He landed as if he'd just skipped the last step of a staircase.  
'Show off' Becky hissed.  
In the green light she saw him grin and wink at her.  
'Eyes front you two. I know you're retracing steps a little here, but you haven't done it at night before' Rhodes instructed, 'we could go with night vision the whole way, but some of the creatures are repelled by light. We gotta get clear of here and lights on ASAP. Double time!'  
Steve had to limit himself to their pace. At first Becky thought she would have to slow herself to keep time with the forty three year old Colonel. She had never seen him take part in the exercises he invigilated. To her surprise, he was still in great shape, keeping to a solid sprint almost to the wetlands bordering the Potomac river's north bank. The packed snow that blanketed everything helped them by reflecting light from the thin crescent moon.  
Steve checked the time on his Pipboy when they crossed the only intact bridge for miles around. It was a two lane structure spanning the great river near a ghost town called Seneca.  
'2am, Rhodes. Are we going to have time to hit this place before dawn?'  
'It won't matter Captain. There's something you have to know about Bannister. It was the biggest military installation near DC. The Chinese wanted to bomb it back to the stone age. In a way they did. The entire surface complex was levelled. What survived was the massive underground complex. Below ground, day or night doesn't mean shit'  
'That's why you wanted us?' Rebecca said, then chuckled, 'Going on an underground rescue mission so you recruit two former mole people'  
'Yeah' Rhodes smiled 'You got the home team advantage'  
The journey seemed to be permanently on the verge of danger. After the river crossing, Steve frequently saw multiple limbed figures scurrying from the light from his helmet and gun torches. Skittering fell creatures that perpetually followed the trio through the misty gloom. He never saw one of the monsters in it's entirety. Somehow despite their numbers, those that followed always found shadows to melt into.  
'Rhodes what on Earth is following us?' Becky said, bringing up the rear of their group.  
'My guess by those chittering noises, is giant scorpions and cave crickets. Must be a cavern or burrow around here. Overgrown bugs stay underground in the day, then hunt a night'  
'They're giving me the creeps'  
'Just keep lights on them and keep moving. They got very sensitive eyes, never seen something as bright as your gun light'  
Unknown to the trio, their path led them between multiple burrows and access hatches. The darkness around them seethed with countless writhing horrors from below. Only when the wildlands gave way to the ruins around Big Town did the chittering menace subside. They bypassed the settlement entirely, minimizing the chances of three soldiers in distinct Germantown uniforms being reported back to Schwartz.  
Dawn rose, shedding light on hills all too familiar to Steve and Becky. Rhodes noticed them slowing and gazing at one rise in particular.  
'Is that where you used to call home?'  
'It is. That little town at the bottom of it more than the underground hell within' Becky remarked.  
'You lived in Springvale?'  
'We did. We could again if the two women there would have us back'  
'The reputation of that place seems far different to the reality it seems'


	16. Jury Street Metro Station - 12th January 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allies are made in the hunt for the missing arms tycoon

The collection of buildings around the access to the subway concourse was only ever referred to as Jury Street. The name of the ruined town was long blasted from any wall or signpost, and lost from memory. The single sign on the high street was all that remained to give the place a name. Two dozen buildings, mostly stores and businesses, remained mostly intact in the centre of town. Around them was a ringed gradient of ruins. Many Wastelanders believed that Jury Street would have been a thriving settlement if not for it's neighboring towns and installations. To the west was Evergreen Mills. A foundry nestled in a dead end canyon and home to the largest raider gang outside of urban DC. Due north was the veritable stronghold of Fort Bannister.  
South was the most deadly of the wildlands. The rolling hills and valleys between Tenpenny Tower and Jury Street were the prime hunting grounds for Deathclaws. Iguanas were exposed to the same serum that made Super Mutants and created eight foot tall gangly abominations of razor talons and lightning speed. Jury Street existed as no man's land between them, strangely protected by it's permanent danger.  
Reilly wanted to reach the town, bury her fallen, and bug out as quickly as possible. The weather had other plans. Just as they reached the outskirts, low clouds rolled in bringing a blizzard with them. It was a struggle for the group to be heard, even through headsets. Leading from the front, Reilly had everyone shoulder their weapons and link arms in the zero visibility.  
It took Donovan Lau and Jessica Watts pleading with their commander to abandon the search for their fallen comrades until after the storm passed. She relented, ordering the giant Lau to force egress to a boxy tool shop near the centre of town. The twenty men and women of Alpha and Delta squad were more than happy to take shelter until the following morning. The commander took first watch, knowing sleep would not come easily to her.  
She woke to Watts warning her of contact sighted coming from the East.  
'Reilly, got three tangos at heading eight nine. Intentions unknown' buzzed the woman's voice in her headset.  
The Delta squad leader had been keeping a three sixty degree visual from the ladder accessed roof of the shop when the sun rose on clear skies. Reilly clambered up to the woman's perch. At first she was dazzled by a thick blanket of snow over everything. The three unknowns wore green army uniforms with composite body armor sets.  
'I know where they're from' she said to Jessica's surprise, 'These guys don't stray far from their fortified settlement very often. It's safe to say they're friendly'

*

The afternoon and night spent sheltering in a culvert under the road to Jury Street was an experience Rhodes would love to forget. The sudden storm brought good news, which he discovered once they entered the town. From a tool shop came twenty fully armed and armored Rangers, though initially they formed a firing line until their leader had them stand down from her vantage point on the roof.  
He knew right away that it was Reilly. Stark had often mentioned the flame hair on the mercenary leader, now James could see it flowing free from under her helmet when she approached him in the high street.  
'Good morning Germantowners!' she hailed, 'What brings you to Jury Street?'  
'Reilly right? That's who you are?' Rhodes replied.  
'That's me. Yes'  
'I called for you through Simms back in Megaton. I'm Colonel James Rhodes. This is Captain Steve Rogers and Master Sergeant Rebecca Barnes'  
The vault exiles waved awkwardly.  
'Good to put a name to a face Rhodes. I take it you're here to find Stark'  
'Correct. Have you found your men?'  
'We were about to begin after that wicked storm forced us to take shelter. Did it catch you too?'  
'Yeah but all we had was a storm drain to hide in'  
'You Germantowners are bastard hard. Come, share a hot drink with us. Who you seek isn't going anywhere fast and neither is our quarry' Reilly offered.  
Inside, the tool shop was kept warm just by the people inside. Steve felt his fingers sting just by the comparable rise in temperature.  
'So they let you strike out to find a lying, womanising bastard of an arms dealer?' Reilly asked once the brewed tea had been distributed.  
'Uh no. We're technically AWOL' James began, 'Well I am. These two are volunteers and were only in GTown for training'  
The commander's eyes narrowed.  
'Wait, so you're not a scout team for a rescue group. You are a rescue group?'  
'Thats pretty much it chief' Becky sighed.  
Reilly thought for few moments.  
'We are here so we might as well help you, but I will not risk any more lives for Tony Fucking Stark. We'll provide eyes in the sky via Corporal Watts and her drones. Becky I see you're a sharpshooter so if you want to buddy up with Dan Lawson from Alpha and Katya Gerhardt of Delta. Between you, neutralising anything on the surface will be a cinch. It will mean that just Rhodes and Rogers will be going below ground'  
The three looked at each other and nodded in agreement.  
'Yeah, works for us' the Colonel stated.  
Initial recon flights from the drones mapped out the surface elements of Fort Bannister within minutes, which Steve and Becky were able to download directly to their Pipboys. Talon kept surface defence tight around the ruins of the admin building which held the main access to the sublevels. Jessica Watts sat at her monitor recanting what she saw on the aerial machines' live views.  
'So we're looking at twenty to thirty hostiles around a couple of tents. I don't think these guys expect anyone to ever hit them here'  
'Because it would be suicide' Rhodes cut in.  
'Exactly. But hubris works both ways. They have no scouts whatsoever. We could, and really should, have our long rifles at one twenty degrees for maximum coverage'  
Headsets from Rangers not part of the mission were given to Rhodes, Barnes, and Rogers to keep them in contact with Watts, Reilly and each other.  
The first stage was setting up the long guns so they could get eyes on the ground. Becky was micromanaged by Reilly through her headset, as the commander watched from two miles away in the tool shop.  
'Okay just ahead of you should be a tight cluster of trees. You're wearing forest camo in a nuclear winter, so any tree is your best bet'  
'Yes Commander'  
Reilly was impressed by how easily Barnes let a total stranger assume battle command without fuss.  
'Lawson and Gerhardt are in position. Coordinate your shots. Keep eyes on who is watching who. Rhodes and Rogers will be able to dance into that fucking base'


	17. Fort Bannister - 12th January 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark cuts loose as help closes in

Timing for Stark and Singh was becoming critical. It was becoming clear that the pair were deliberately stalling on the repair of the Abrams tank. Conversely, Tony's secret weapon was approaching completion. Today, he felt like it was ready to go.  
'Singh, we got an hour tops until the morning inspection comes around. The software for the suit is patchy as hell but it will do what it needs to do'  
Tahir always found himself drawn to the round blue light that glowed under Tony's black vest.  
'Are you sure Stark? We can only try this once'  
'Once is all we need. You remember the drill? Fire this up then take cover in the Bradley. I'll come get you when these guys are ashes'  
The doctor nodded.  
Tony's creation was a suit of powered armor. Various pieces of empty frames had been found and cobbled together. Armor plating from every vehicle imaginable had been cut and reshaped to completely cover Stark. He had also fashioned a while variety of homemade weapons to the suit, as not a single firearm was left in the vehicle hall. Using pulleys and chains, the top half of the suit was lowered onto Stark after he clambered into the legs. Stark was sealed inside by a series of clamps and bolts in the waist of the hulking mass of plates, motors and pistons. Magnetised wires connected to the Arc reactor on his chest. He felt a deep rumble as the suit initialised for the first time. The toughened glass visor allowed Singh to barely make out Stark's face.  
'Everything alright in there Tony?'  
'Yep. Fine and dandy. Let's get this bitch fired up. Start the software integration'  
Singh's fingers frantically tapped at the computer terminal linked to the suit.  
'Okay, it has started. Should only be a few…'  
Stark couldn't hear what Singh heard. A knock at the hangar door to the storage hall.  
'Tony!'  
He tapped on the side of the gunmetal grey helmet. Stark heard him.  
'Tony they are here early. I will buy you some time'  
'Singh! Tahir stop. Stick to the plan!'  
The doctor moved to leave in the direction of their still-broken tank project.  
'Tahir come back!'  
Stark was trapped, powerless, in the suit until the software finished loading. Singh was almost out of sight amongst the wrecks when he turned back. He stood just below the visor of Stark's suit. A solemn smile crossed his face.  
'I said I can return to my wife and son when we are done Stark. I will now, for they are both dead. Jabsco killed them when I was taken'  
Stark yelled, strained against the suit that kept him held in place. Three minutes remained until he could come online.  
On the other side of the vehicle hall, Jabsco and a group of guards waited by the Abrams surrounded by scattered tools and components. Tahir greeted them with smiles and pleasantries.  
'Apologies gentlemen. Mr Stark is still a little unwell from a night of toil. I will be happy to show you the fruit of our labors'  
He bid them to join him on top of the turret, which they hesitantly followed. The doctor used various epithets of mechanical jargon and nonsense for as long as he could. Jabsco fell for it, going as far as to climb inside the tank. Two Talon guards stood either side of Tahir above the tank hatch when a great rumble reverberated through the hall. Singh closed his eyes and smiled.  
'I'm coming home' he whispered with closed eyes.  
The guard to his right was distracted by the noise. The doctor grabbed the gun from his hip, twisted the safety catch as Stark explained, then fired wildly into the open hatch. Several rounds struck Jabsco, who fell further into the vehicle. Singh tried to turn the weapon on the guards, but a man on the ground opened fire on him with his AK pattern rifle. The doctor collapsed, fire searing in his chest, hitting the ground behind the tank. The three remaining men had no time to finish him off before a second crash of metal rang out. Guns were pulled to their shoulders, but they couldn't tell which direction the sound came from.  
'What the hell is going on?'  
'Roberts, check the commander?'  
'Jabsco's in a bad way, and you just wasted the doctor you jack-'  
A Stryker wreck lurched on the edge of the rebuild work area, then slammed back down onto it's wheels. The guardsmen grouped together, backs against the Abrams. With a second effort, Stark launched the Stryker. It tumbled over twice, sending loose parts and tools flying. The two vehicles slammed together, helpless men vanishing in colliding, twisting metal. Tony lumbered over, motors screamed with each stride. The four tonne armor suit left craters in the concrete floor. He skirted the tank, finding the stricken doctor. Kneeling awkwardly, he pulled the hinged face plate open. Stark was sweating already. Despite the suit multiplying his strength, the exertion and strain after weeks of squalid malnourishment made him dizzy.  
'Singh. Singh it works. We did it. Come on we gotta get out of here' he begged.  
His friend coughed painfully, but his eyes opened.  
'Tony… you will have to go without me. I know enough to see this is the end for me'  
'No, no, no. We're going to make it'  
Mechanical limbs moved to pick the doctor up but he pushed back.  
'You have to go' Tahir commanded, then placed a hand on the hardened clear dome covering the Arc reactor.  
'This has to be a new start. You have the chance. Don't waste your life Stark. Don't…'  
Blood left streaks on the chest of the suit when Singh's hand fell. Tony clenched his fists. Tears mixed with the sweat and grime on his face. Over the hum of the creation around him, he heard heavy footfalls from the hallway.  
There were no words. No snappy remarks or quips that the arms dealer was famed for. Tony Stark was out for vengeance for the man who saved his life.  
Knowing nothing of Bannister's layout, he thundered through the underground complex. His armor shrugged off the thousands of small calibre rounds unloaded at him by the terrified mercenaries. He fought back with everything crammed into the gauntlets. Flamethrowers, unguided rockets, even a set of single use shotguns. Before long, the besieged mercs turned Stark's own weapons on him. A Talon soldier was able to fire off a single shot from a .50 cal rifle before being incinerated. The round struck Tony's armor under the right shoulder. He felt the limb become heavier.  
'Damnit, got the hydraulics. Time I got out of here'  
He continued his warpath to a wide open atrium, stopping once to find a floor plan of the base. By his estimates, the ceiling of this room was only five feet below the surface. He strained to lift his right to aim a rocket. The first projectile tore apart the insular metal, revealing dark rock. Several tonnes of groundrock and broken steel fell before him. He had one left, again, in the right arm. Stark had to steady the failing limb with his left hand. Eyes closed when he released the rocket.

*

Rhodes and Rogers kept low in a drainage ditch in the approach to the fort. The inhabited shell of a building lay ahead of them, ringed by a chain link fence. Steve knew that Becky had the vantage point closest to their angle of attack, but the Intel from all three snipers and the drone would be vital. Thirty yards from the lone guard in the gate house, they laid prone, waiting for Reilly's all clear to move up. Her voice was heard by all involved in the operation.  
'Okay. One guy in the gate house. Barnes, take him on my go. Lawson, Gerhardt? If anyone notices, you drop them too'  
For a moment there was total silence around Steve. He could attest that he could hear Becky take a quick, sharp intake of breath through his headset. At the guardhouse, glass cracked around a new hole in the window. The man in black armor slumped in his chair.  
'Tango down' Becky hissed.  
'All clear', the Ranger snipers echoed.  
'All right, Rogers you are clear to proceed. Watts has got six Tango's outside the tents. Some could be obscured by ruins. Proceed with caution. Long rifles? Once they're past the gate you are weapons free and clear to engage at will'  
'Copy that'  
The two soldiers covered the distance to the gate house in seconds, edging along a dead jackknifed truck. Rogers took point, with Rhodes keeping eyes behind. By the cab he spied a merc coming out of the nearest tent. Both looked straight at one another for what could have been an age.  
'Rhodes! Down!'  
He pulled the driver side door open, covering them both from the knees up. Bullet impacts pinged on the truck door like rain.  
'Got him' Becky hissed, 'They're alerted. Going loud'  
Without consulting his partner, Rogers got a grip on the wide square piece of reinforced steel and tore it from the truck. The handle on the inside made it easy to hold in his left arm, with his pistol held ready through the gap where the window was long blown out.  
'Lets go shield boy' Rhodes said, tapping him on the shoulder. They moved beyond the gate house in a beeline for the aisle between the tents. Whenever a Talon Merc appeared in their path they were cut down either by Rhodes or the sharpshooters.  
'Rogers you're fifty yards from the sublevel entrance. Could be more Tango's hiding. Stay sharp' Reilly advised.  
In the middle of the tent group, billowing canvas masked the sound of approaching feet. Four men carrying stun batons converged on Rogers and Rhodes at once.  
'Contact close!' James yelled.  
He let the M4 rifle hang free from the strap, knowing it would only inhibit him at close range. Only one merc came for him, the other three surrounding Steve. The trio swiftly regretted the action, blindsided by the speed and ease in which the tall man batted them with the green metal door. One merc was knocked fifteen yards into a tent wall as the fight raged. Unknown to Steve, he swept up a fallen assault rifle. The last six rounds snapped out at full auto fire, only to ricochet off the white star sigil of the door and hit the Talon soldier's own comrade. Rogers took the dumbstruck man off his feet with an uppercut.  
James took his opponent down with the knife from his belt, ducking and sidestepping the man's frenzied swings with the baton. Surgical slashes to the arms and knees avoided the black armor plates, forcing the man to his knees. In the space of a breath, Rhodes put him out with a shot through the head.  
'Rogers, all clear?'  
'Yes Colonel!' yelled the man with three broken opponents at his feet.  
'Jesus Colonel where did you find this guy?' Reilly gasped after watching it all.  
Rebecca couldn't help herself chuckling.  
'One hundred percent Vault 101 right there. You guys are lucky only two of us got out!'  
Rogers crouched and raised a fist. James spied the gesture, also dropping.  
'You felt that?' the Colonel asked.  
'I did. Be advised sharpshooters. We felt a tremor. Something is happening below ground' Steve replied.  
'Say that again?' the Ranger leader clarified from back at her command post.  
'The Earth shook. Source unknown. Stand by'  
Steve took a few steps towards the bunker blast doors at the bottom of a wide access ramp, with James ten paces behind. In the space between them, the ground erupted. Dirt, chunks of rock, and metal shards flew high enough to take out the Rangers' drone. Rhodes found himself projected back into the soft catch of a Talon field tent. Rogers had no such luck. The blast threw him forwards, hard, into a concrete pillar holding up part of the ruined building. Despite the hit, surging adrenaline had him on his feet quicker than the Colonel.  
'We have lost visual. Repeat, we have no visual. Someone tell me what just happened?' Reilly ordered.  
Back in the tool shop, Corporal Watts had her squad prepare a second drone become airborne.  
'Something blew up beneath us' Rogers reported, 'No injuries… wait, what in the world-'  
His comm link was drowned out by the roar of jet engines blazing. At first he thought it was a missile taking off through the blackened hole in the earth, then realised it had arms and legs. Steve only resisted the force of the blast by crouching and digging the corner of the truck door into the earth like an anchor.  
'Rebecca, are you seeing this?' he called.  
'Yeah, thank God it's not just me'  
'Report guys, what are you seeing?' an exasperated Reilly commanded.  
'It's a suit commander' came the comparatively calm voice of Katya Gerhardt, 'Some kind of rocket equipped power armor. Orders?'  
She had been unheard until this point, despite racking up more kills during the operation than Lawson and Barnes combined. She sat on the second floor of half an office tower, and had switched to her carbine, ready to engage the flying machine.  
Before Reilly could respond, the thrusters on Stark's suit drained the last available reserves from his arc reactor around two hundred feet up. Smoke belched from his feet, the flames sputtering out. Momentum carried him a little further, then he started to fall. With the jets out of commission, his reactor immediately began recharging. A small dial on his side activated crude fins, giving him a slight control over the direction in which he fell. The land was uniform white all around the scattered bones of the military installation, though the scarring and bodies around the building he'd blasted out of looked fresh.  
'Hmm, what are the chances that's a rescue team?' he wondered aloud.  
His own voice was inaudible over the rattling of the suit parts and rushing wind. One final button on the suit was hit aggressively, releasing three mismatched parachutes. His weight estimations were slightly off, and he was still descending too quickly.  
Where Rogers watched the dramatic fall unfold, he was certain he heard someone inside screaming before the metal suit crashed through the partial ceiling and floors of the hollow admin structure. One of the parachutes snagged, spinning him sufficiently to make him land flat on his back in the last undamaged tent.  
There was silence in the base. The colonel and captain gazing at the fallen monstrosity. The second drone was up, yet Reilly couldn't find the words for a course of action. The flutter of the tangled parachutes was the only noise above the subsiding wind. Once again it fell to the introverted Deadshot Katya to break everyone's bewilderment.  
'So is someone inside that or what? Give it a kick Captain Rogers'  
He obliged, slowly approaching the anthropomorphic ironclad. Between the fight underground and the short flight, every hydraulic system in Stark's suit had broken. He lay motionless, able only to gaze at the sky above through the immobile helmet visor. A tall man in military camo approached who seemed to be carrying a square green shield with a white star emblem.  
'Hey there' Tony yelled, almost deafened by the echo in the suit.  
A second figure appeared, aiming a weapon over the shoulder of the shield bearer.  
'Rhodey! Thank God you're here'  
James dropped his gun in disbelief. It fell to his side on account of the shoulder strap  
'Stark? You're in there?'  
'Yup. Kinda trapped too. Can I get a little help?'  
'Captain, give the metal man a hand will you' Rhodes ordered.  
Rogers put the star emblazoned door down and removed his helmet.  
'No, hold on there Captain America, I think you'll find this pretty tough to crack without the right tools…'  
Steve ignored him, getting a hold on both halves of the helmet. Stark winced as the front plate was wrenched open, shearing the locking bolts.  
'So you're Tony Stark huh?' the Captain said.  
He felt around the chest segments for something to grasp.  
'Yeah, come on, really? The bolts on my helmet were rusted but I made do-'  
Tearing metal screamed as the heaviest interlocking plates of tank armor separated. Rogers laughed at Tony's protests.  
'I am new to this heroics business. Is everyone I rescue going to complain as much as you Stark?'  
'No but they probably didn't spend as long as I did building the means of my own escape'  
'We have a small window to get you out of here Tony. Hurry it up' Rhodes insisted.  
Stark relented, allowing Rogers to pull him out of the wrecked suit. Once free, he tapped the arc reactor in his chest, which glowed as bright as ever.  
'What's the blue trinket on Mr Stark?' Becky asked Steve through the headset.  
He parroted the question out loud.  
'Oh this? It's a long story. We...oh hang on'  
The adrenaline that fueled him through the escape finally wore off. His vision swirled, legs became jelly. Rogers caught him before he fell. As the Captain moved to carry Tony from the base, the barely conscious man had one mumbled request.  
'One rocket is in the left arm. Use it to destroy the thing'  
Steve checked in with Becky.  
'Have you got eyes on the suit Becky?'  
'Sure do Cap'  
'put a round in the left arm once we're clear. Give 'em one more fireworks display'


	18. Springvale - 19th January 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogers and Barnes find a new home in Megaton.

Steve and Rebecca approached the town with a different attitude to how they left the previous year. Their gun barrels swept either side of their route through the cold midday winter sun. The collapsed wing of the school and rooftop was watched closely for even the hint of an observer. No threats were detected.  
'I guess even the drugnuts think it's too cold out here' she said through chattering teeth.  
'Hey, anything to stop people killing each other. I'm a fan of this season'  
'Its the only one we've experienced Steve. I bet you can't wait for a hot nuclear summer'  
'Remind me what that entails?'  
'If those old movies are anything to go by; men saunter around in shorts and bare chests, women wear brightly colored underwear and little else. Everyone let's the sun slowly turn their skin a different colour'  
'We watched very different movies from the Vault media bank Becky' he smiled.  
'Hey I did enjoy those war films we saw together'  
'Good. Some of them were unashamed propaganda though'  
'Weren't they all?'  
'No. Well I didn't think so anyway. The older ones were a celebration of heroism and brotherhood'  
'Ha. Brotherhood. Can you believe that it took until the twenty first century for this dumb country to let women fight for it?'  
'And thirty years later the world ended'  
Steve's grin only widened at Rebecca's grimace.  
'You big idiot. The Chinese couldn't beat American women in combat so they had to resort to nukes'  
'I know Becky, I was just messing'  
Becky rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. After a few minutes they were back at the Branch house. The young woman noticed how the snow around the door was undisturbed. They knocked anyway.  
'Charlie? Gail?' Rogers called.  
Barnes tried the door, but the handle didn't give.  
'It's locked. That's a good sign right?'  
'I think so. Maybe they left instead of riding out the worst of the cold weather?' Steve pondered.  
'The kid was friends with the Raiders. Could be in the school'  
'That's too much of a risk. Their relationship could have soured, and I don't feel like another brawl just yet'  
'I know what you mean. There's no truck doors around here for you to hit people with. I think we should try Megaton. If Rumlow was sent to find us, there's no way she's still be there'  
At the end of the residential street, the junk dome of Megaton came into view against the cloudless azure sky. Through shallow hills and snowy dips, the pair moved with the care and diligence that brought them all the way from Germantown without incident. A single mole rat, bloated by it's insulating winter fat, lumbered at the top of a rise a half mile from the town. Rebecca pulled back the bolt on her scoped Springfield rifle, chambering a round.  
'You hungry Captain America?' she smiled.  
After felling the creature, Rogers responded.  
'This will feed us and half the town by the size of it. If there's a tavern we can offer it in part payment for a room'  
Barnes nodded, slinging the gun over her back.  
'Where did this Captain America thing start Becky? It's weird'  
'Stark called you it back at Bannister. I heard it through the comms. Probably 'cause of the white star on that door you lugged around, as well as our real Army uniforms'  
'Eh, it's still a bit of a stretch but I'll take it'  
Rogers grabbed the dead beast by the feet, swinging it over his shoulders.  
The travelling arms merchant who went by 'Lucky' Harith stood at the halt at the base of the shallow rise to Megaton. He insisted on braving the cold outside, to the annoyance of his guardsman, Rodriguez. He also insisted on sticking to his distinctive yellow jumpsuit, emblazoned with his nickname in red stitching. Underneath the garment he had piled layers to keep the biting cold out. He noticed the peculiar figure walking in from the south first.  
'Would you look at that, Rod. The biggest guy I've ever seen, carrying the biggest dead molerat'  
'He's probably gonna eat it all himself too' the guard remarked.  
Closer now, Harith recognised their uniforms. He waved to the pair.  
'Hey there, does Germantown do outreach now? I thought you guys were isolationists?'  
'They still are' Rebecca snapped. 'Sorry, didn't mean to say it that way. You're the gun trader aren't you?'  
'Lucky Harith at your service sir and madam'  
'Good to meet you Lucky, but we're well supplied for now. You may just see business boom for you in the near future' Becky teased.  
'Is that so?'  
'You bet. Just watch who you sell to. Never know when your own merch will be turned on you'  
With that, Steve and Becky headed up the gritted path to town. Orange grit crunched under foot the entire way, sticking to their shoes.  
The outer wings were open, by order of Sheriff Simms. He wanted nobody to spend longer in the stinging cold than absolutely necessary. The corrugated rolling gate within was slid open by Rebecca to let her encumbered partner in. Warm air swept over them immediately.  
'Yup, can definitely see why Charlie would want to be here over Springvale' Becky commented. Megaton was a towering, twisting vertical maze. Where the limits of the wall were reached, people began building upwards. Towers like junk tree roots spiralled all the way to the top of the dome. Impossible bridges snaked between them at heights at which the fall would kill anyone. No natural light pierced the shell save for a few scattered beams. Illumination everywhere but ground level came from neon signs for everything from diners, general stores, places of worship, arms merchants, and drug dens. The density of the ramshackle edifices made it impossible to guess the true size of the city.  
The pair gazed for a while. The neon glitz and dark rust was overwhelming. Becky's fingers blindly felt around for Steve's. Once entwined, she squeezed him lightly.   
'I don't even know where to start Steve. I can't process even half of what I'm looking at'  
'Me neither Becky. I guess we just pick a sign and follow to the base of the tower it's on'  
The streets, or what were labelled as streets, were heaving. In places two people could just stand abreast between bars, vendors, and slums. Nobody seemed to pay Steve or Becky any heed, save for a brunette woman in a blue Robco mechanic's outfit. Becky caught her gaze and waved.  
'Hey, we're new. Can you help us. Looking for somewhere to stay?'  
The ever excitable Moira Brown got a glint in her eyes at the thought of newcomers.  
'Oh hey, this is your first time in Megaton? That's so cool! I'm Moira Brown! I'd say Moriarty's up top on the east ridge which is a little iffy, or Stahl's place down by the bomb'  
Steve's eyebrows raised.  
'The what now?'  
'Oh there's just this little, kinda huge bomb at the middle of the crater. What are the chances that a nuclear bomb falls and malfunctions exactly where a big ol' conventional exploder already left a hole. If it hadn't fallen, the town wouldn't exist. It's totally safe though'  
Her reassurances were less than convincing, possibly made worse by a cheesy smile and two thumbs up.  
'So a bomb made a crater a mile wide, then another just falls smack dab in it?' Rogers asked.  
'That's the best explanation anyone ever came up with. If a nuke made this hole, we'd all be glowing tee hee'  
'Thanks for the info. I'm Steve and this is Rebecca'  
'Good to meet you! I run Craterside Supply, just by Stahl's and under Doc Chiver's surgery. You need anything, just drop by'  
The store owner smiled and went on her way.  
'So should we go to the iffy one or the one by the bomb Becky?'  
'If a nuke goes off here, we'll be dead regardless of where we sleep. Let's go Stahl's'  
Jenny gave a perplexed look at the soldiers carrying a massive dead rat down to the centre of town. Somehow, despite her only being out on the empty dining deck to smoke, the pair knew she was the proprietor. Her surprise was genuine when the corpse was brought to her tavern like some strange offering. The woman in green armor made her an offer.  
'You want this? It's big as hell and a clean kill. One .30-03 in and out. It's yours if we have a room for a night'  
'One night? For this ratzilla, you got it for a month honey' Jenny countered, winking.  
'Oh?' Becky faltered, 'yes, that would be perfect, thank you'  
'Of course, you gotta lug it round back. Knock and Ian will receive it in the kitchen. Here you go, room seven, top floor'  
She passed the keys from her back pocket to Rebecca as Rogers dealt with the hulking rat.  
'One last thing Miss Stahl' Becky began.  
'Oh please, Jenny. We ain't gotta be prim and proper round here soldier girl. What's up?'  
'A friend is in town, I'm pretty sure. Charlie Branch?'  
'Oh yeah, Chaz! One of my oldest friends. She has the house just right of the gate. Mayor Simms finally convinced her and her girl to return to town after a whole summer out in Springvale. Urgh, don't know what possessed her to live in that dump'  
'Great Jenny, thank you. I'm Becky, by the way. The big idiot is Steve'  
'Welcome to town sugar'  
The two of them were able to drop their heavy packs in the reasonably spacious tavern suite, as well as shed a few layers of clothing.  
'God I can't remember the last time I actually felt hot' Becky said, stripping down to just her tank top and cargo pants.  
'You're always hot Becky'  
'Oh shut up you' she giggled, 'You're the one that's technically part furnace. Come on, let's go see Charlie and Gail'  
Before leaving the room, Steve made a point of removing his pistol holster.  
'I feel a lot lighter without it' he sighed.  
'Me too. It's about time we tried the civilian life Steve. Even if we still dress like jarheads'  
He looked at her at frowned.  
'Did you just?'  
'Yes I referenced one of your war films. Now that was definitely not propaganda. It looked gross, slow, and boring. Move your butt!'  
Gail answered the door at her home, calling for her mother before either visitor could say hello.  
'Come on in' the teenager said nonchalantly.  
'Guess she hasn't changed' Becky quipped as they stepped into the wonky house.  
'Oh my God you're actually back. God's look at you two!' Charlie fawned as she joined the three in the living room.  
'Hey Charlotte, Gail. We checked your place in Springvale earlier today. It's still locked tight' Rogers explained.  
'That's good to hear. It took Simms talking my ear off to get us to come back to town. Not sure what I did to get our own building instead of the apartment stacks further in the city. Anyway enough about us! You definitely look like you made it to Germantown!'  
'We did. It wasn't quite what we expected, I gotta say, was it Mag?'  
'No' the young woman continued, 'They're very insular. Like training for a fight they'll avoid or sit out. We did what we went there to do though. You're looking at Captain Rogers and Master Sergeant Barnes'  
Charlie whooped and clapped excitedly.  
'Oh my God, well done you guys. I knew that place would be right for you. So you here on leave?'  
'No' Steve sighed with pursed lips, 'We were asked to leave. Permanently'  
'Oh?'  
'Yeah it was a kick in the head, but we don't regret what we did'  
'What did you do?'  
'Ah I'll go from the top. So our commanding officer, James Rhodes, doubled up as the town's liaison with Tony Stark, the arms dealer'  
'Oh him? Didn't he go missing?'  
'He did, kidnapped by Talon, and it was entirely his fault. Well Rhodes wanted to rescue him and asked us to help him'  
'Oh jeez. You went up against Talon?'  
'We had a little help from the Rangers but basically yeah. Short story is, we bust Stark out of Bannister. He returns to Rivet with Reilly's group, and we go back to Germantown with our best 'sorry for deserting' faces on. The General is fuming at our insubordination. Rhodes gets court martialed and is still imprisoned. As we weren't GTown natives, we were banished'  
Becky noticed that Gail had actually been listening intently to their goings on. Charlie was positively amazed.  
'You've had quite a ride since you struck out from Springvale, and the Vault! I bet that place feels like a lifetime ago'  
'It does. It really does'  
'So what's next for you two? Where will you blaze a trail next?'  
'Oh no, we're done with that life for now. We'll be in Megaton probably until the cold weather subsides'  
'That's great. Good to hear. Sorry I've been rambling. Can I get you a tea or something? Gail and I we're going to hit Jenny's place for dinner later. You should join us?'  
'I think we will' Becky agreed, 'I heard Stahl's just got a great delivery of Mole Rat'  
Prior to reconvening with the Branches, Becky gave Steve an option as they retraced their steps through the cramped sprawl. The pair held hands to stay together almost naturally.  
'We just went somewhere for the first time without being armed. We're disavowed from GTown too. Do you… y'know want to get some normal people clothes?'  
'Yes. Absolutely. I'm guessing that Moira woman will have threads. She said she had everything'  
Brown wasn't exaggerating in her description. Craterside Supply was the second largest building in Megaton, only dwarfed by the nearby Church of Atom. With no vantage point to see the structure in it's entirety, the size of Moira's emporium could only be realised from inside. Four floors with ten cashier's, stockists, and loss preventers on each. Under Moira's founding and leadership, Craterside keeps wheels of trade rolling and people in secure employment.  
Becky and Steve followed a handpainted directory to the third floor, where clothing and armor were sold. Their amazement at the sheer variety of garments rivalled the pair's awe upon entering Megaton. Becky didn't know how to react when a female store worker approached her. A gold threaded 'CS' was emblazoned on her plain black T-shirt.  
'Hey there, are you looking for anything in particular?'  
'Uh...yeah, just something that fits will be good. What do you call these?' she asked, pulling at a pair of denim pants.  
The young worker squinted for a second, though Becky didn't see the expression.  
'You mean jeans? Yeah what's your size?'  
Barnes awkwardly felt around the inside of her combats, trying to root out a label. Pulling it above the beltline, she spun around to show the increasingly concerned assistant.  
'Waist twenty eight. Got plenty of that. Come with me'  
Rebecca was led to an entire row of legwear in the same size that she needed. After a few minutes of browsing and selecting parts for an outfit, she realised she'd lost Rogers. The assistant was about to leave when Barnes tapped her shoulder.  
'Hey, can you see a tall guy, dressed just like me? He's really muscular'  
'If he's here for new threads, he'll be in the men's section. Over there on the left side'  
Steve pointed out that the time they agreed to meet Gail and Charlie was fast approaching.  
'Well I've got clothes for one evening. You decided?' she replied  
'Yeah. They have fitting rooms so we can pay for these then change here to save time?'  
'Good idea'  
Rogers came out of the small room first after hitting his head on the low hanging lightbulb several times. Various mirrors were arranged in a semicircle outside the cubicles. He checked over his choices. Grey denim jeans, a white tee with a logo he didn't recognise, and an open buttoned plaid shirt. Rebecca opened her door slightly, showing Steve her face but not her clothes.  
'Everything alright Becky?'  
'Yeah. I'm just, just a bit scared I'll look silly'  
'Well your face is silly enough so the rest of you won't matter'  
Becky pulled the door open in a fit of laughter.  
'Oh God damn it Rogers you know how to flatter me'  
He saw her knee length boots, brown cargo pants, black and white striped vest and buttoned blue peacoat.  
'This works right?'  
'Rebecca Barnes you look amazing'  
'Really? I really didn't spend as many caps on this as I expected. Seventy five for the whole get up'  
'Yes really. Mine was only thirty but there's less of it'  
Becky grabbed her combat uniform from the changing room and threw it in the rucksack with Steve, before they looked at each other and themselves in the mirror.  
'Look at us huh? Would never guess we spent our lives in a bunker or the army' she beamed.  
'We're Wasteland natives, and nobody can tell us otherwise'  
*  
Jenny Stahl's hotel restaurant was busy when Steve and Becky arrived. Fortunately, Charlie got there early, secured a table, and spent the interim having a drink with her daughter and Jenny. The teenager was peeved at not being allowed alcohol, sat at the bar with a cola.  
'I won't have it Gail. Before the war, you had to wait until you were twenty one to have beer, and I think that's right'  
'That's bullshit' she fretted.  
'Hey, watch your tongue around your mama, little lady' Stahl chided.  
'Whatever, I've had alcohol with the guys in school anyway'  
'That's nice Gail but you're not in the school, you're with me' Charlie told her.  
To the pair's surprise, the teenager noticed them show up first and waved, smiling.  
'Well get a load of you two! Sharp threads' Jenny exclaimed, 'What can I get you?'  
Becky looked at Steve with an expectant expression.  
'It's your first time big guy. First step on the road to alcoholism. Take your time. Jenny, I'll have what he's having'  
Rogers scanned over the chalkboard list above Jenny's head over the bar.  
'What do the percentages mean?' he asked with genuine curiosity.  
'It's how strong the booze is. How quickly you'll get wasted' Becky said after laughing with Gail, Jenny and Charlie.  
'Well I have quite a bit of catching up to do'  
'Steve don't'  
'Moonshine please'  
'Still want the same honey?' Stahl asked Becky.  
'Hell no. Just give me a beer. Christ Rogers you're gonna regret this'  
'There y'all go. One beer and one doubled up corn mash whiskey fresh from the fields of Olney'  
Becky watched Steve take the glass of clear liquid.  
'No take backs Rogers. Cheers'  
The three women watched them tap their drinks together. Rebecca took a sip, then almost spat it out when Steve finished his in one. His eyes flicked from side to side, jaw clenched slightly, then he smiled.  
'I like it'  
Rogers continued to request the same drink throughout the evening, matching the rate that Becky had bottles of beer. It didn't take long for her to realise that his body was resistant to alcohol in the same way it was to radiation effects. She was very drunk when she tried to convey her findings.  
'Steve. Steeeeve' she slurred, pulling at his shoulder as he tried to talk to an equally inebriated Charlie across their table, 'You should be passed out or dead by now'  
'Really? I still don't feel anything'  
'Can I have his drinks from now on? It's only wasted on him' Gail chirped.  
She snatched the glass and sipped it before her mother could stop her. The liquid barely touched her lips before she spat it out and almost gagged.  
'Jesus. Fucking hell that is awful'  
Charlie didn't try to stop her this time, and laughed heartily at her reaction.  
'Come on Gail. You start work tomorrow so we best be getting home'  
'Oh you have a job? Where?' Steve asked.  
'The Doc's surgery over the way. I'm gonna be Chivers' receptionist'  
'Thats great. Really good. Don't you think Becky?'  
Rogers turned to the woman leaning her head on his shoulder. She was asleep.  
'Looks like it's our turn to go as it is' he conceded.  
'Aw well it's been great seeing you two good and well. You said you're sticking around?'  
'That's the plan. I've had my fill of combat for the time being. Good evening ladies'  
Steve swept his companion up with ease. As he left the bar, Jenny caught his eye, nodded, and smiled. Rebecca stirred when they reached the narrow external stairwell.  
'Hmm huh? Where are we?'  
'Nearly at the suite. You aren't going to be sick are you?'  
'Did you say we have sweets?'  
'No Mag' Rogers chuckled.  
'What's funny you big dumb...guy'  
Becky tried to wriggle around in his arms. Her hair was ruffled into a mess across her face, covering everything but her toothy smile.  
'Aw look at you, my hero. Big strong hero man. Ha. Captain America saving my drunk ass'  
'Curse you Stark. I'm never gonna shake that name' Steve muttered.  
'Did you say Gail got a job earlier?' Becky mumbled as she we lowered into bed.  
'Yeah, working front desk for the Doctor'  
'We need jobsss'  
'We do. A few months of pay from GTown will only get us so far'  
She rolled around on top of the covers, fumbling with the belt. Steve sat opposite and removed his shirt.  
'Steve...Steeeeeve I'm stuck in my clothes. Something is wrong with my pants'  
'You still have your boots on stupid' he remarked, smiling.  
'Alright smarty pants. Come help me anyway'  
He obliged. Becky's mumblings became more coherent as he unzipped her long boots.  
'You know what? I have a theory. It's a really good one. Steve listen it's really good'  
He waited until they were both laid under the covers in just their tops and underwear before giving her the go ahead.  
'It's...right so. Hang on'  
She raised a hand to her mouth after belching.  
'Don't throw up on my face Becky. Please'  
'Nah I'm good. All good. So...yes. The bomb Steve. You know the bomb?'  
'The one in the middle of town?'  
'Yup. It's fake'  
'The bomb is fake?'  
'It is. Notice how there are so few guards outside? Like one sniper perch every few hundred metres of the perimeter?'  
'Yeah?'  
'The bomb is the defence, and it's a ruse. Nobody would risk attacking and setting it off. In reality, that thing is a dud'  
'That makes perfect sense Becky. Let's not go telling everyone that a mutual destruction device is a ruse'  
'Don't worry. I'll forget all of this by morning. Good night Captain'  
She shuffled over and kissed him softly.  
'Good night Master Sergeant'  
He gave her a peck on the nose. He'd become a fan of the way she wrinkled it in response. Becky turned around and pulled his arm to embrace her.  
Rogers slept deeper and longer than he had since leaving Vault 101. For the first time, he had no reason to think about the following days' combat training or fighting.  
He was happy.


	19. Enclave Blacksite B7D - 1st February 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow proves herself

As the chief proponents of the facility, it was Squad Sigma's responsibility to take the first rotation at the sole Enclave station outside Raven Rock. Establishing a permanent, covert presence on the surface was the first suggestion made by Private Brooke Rumlow, one her squad endorsed immediately. The proposal was made jointly by Rollins and Rumlow to the leadership council on the thirty first of December the previous year. Their efforts swayed Augustus, the only leader whose opinion mattered. Vertibirds went on night flights for photoreconnaissance, sweeping over several potential spots suggested by Sigma's previous excursions in the Wasteland. The MDPL-13 power station was deemed the most suitable, showing no signs of inhabitation or nearby trade routes.  
On the 15th of January, Brooke prepared for her first surface mission as a soldier of the Enclave. Even at this late stage, her advice was taken seriously. Squad Sigma would forego their usual green bolt spewing plasma weapons in favor of solid slug firearms. It stopped the Enclave's high tech energy weapons being at risk of loss in combat. It also meant that Sigma could go in deep cover as a band of Wasteland travellers.  
Raven Rock's supply of small arms hadn't been touched in decades. Only a single senior officer even remembered where it was, leading Jack and Brooke deep into the base. She picked up an MP-5, pulled out the thin stock, then checked the alignment of the iron sight. She noticed her commanding officer gazing blankly at an ACR.  
'Have you ever actually fired bullets Rollins?'  
'Not in combat, Private. Enclave switched exclusively to energy devices long before I was born. Can't be too different though huh?'  
'You're kidding right?'  
Rollins laughed and looked down.  
'Yes Rumlow, there's absolutely no discernable difference between magnetically accelerated superheated plasma bolts and a lump of metal slapped by a gunpowder pop'  
He took the ACR and blew dust from the open bolt.  
'This will do for me' he declared.  
'Ha. Boys and their big toys. Come on, wouldn't hurt to hit the range'  
The single Vertibird carried the fifteen strong unit through the dead of night to the power station with a half ton of supplies slung under the chopper. They flew at high altitude to avoid visual detection, then descended straight down to the large square structure on the south end, away from the towering chimneys. Troopers Edith Varr and Andrew Lockhart rappelled ahead of the others to secure the heavy netted cluster of arms, medkits, comms gear, and all the means to pass themselves off as Wastelanders. Brooke was last out, dropping on the opposite side to Rollins. She flicked her eyes open to see him looking at her. He nodded, then slipped from the chopper. She gripped the rope between her feet and gloves hands. The thick rough twine burned her hands even through the tough gloves. Her boots were the last to slam on the concrete and steel roof. She had to move fast. Within seconds the two rappel ropes were released from the 'Bird. They whipped and crashed heavily where she'd stood only moments before. The chopper pulled up vertically once again. She watched it vanish into the low cloud. Out of sight, then no longer heard. Her stomach dropped. I'm back in the damn wasteland, she thought. The fear was smashed aside. She was here for a reason. She had a purpose. Still, it seemed like all of Squad Sigma felt her unease at being dropped in an alien land with no backup. They were, for better or worse, still just a group of young men and women in a region fraught with lethality. Rollins cut through the pregnant silence.  
'Enough daydreaming. We gotta secure this facility by dawn. I want everything alive in this building dead within thirty minutes!' he barked.  
Brooke found her five man team. Their directive was to fastrope to the ground and clear the station from the bottom up. The other two teams were already stacked up at the roof access door. She tried to tell herself that if anything or anyone inhabited the building, they would have come to investigate the noise on the roof by now. Her, Lockhart, Varr, Rollins and Kamala Khan checked their weapons before leaning backwards over the cusp of the roof. Walking backwards down concrete, steel and glass was bizarre for Rumlow, but she stayed alert. The parking lot below glinted in the moonlight. Nothing moved, which reassured her. What didn't settle her nerves were the wide open double doors to the foyer of the MDPL-13 station. Brooke stepped lightly over the letters, then fell in the open doorway.  
'Fuck' she hissed.  
The girl spun and rocked before releasing the rope and hitting the floor heavily.  
'Keep it together Private Rumlow' Lockhart called from the next line.  
Getting to her feet, she flicked on the light on her MP-5.  
'Looks like I'm taking point' she announced.  
Her bluster evaporated once she scanned the entrance hall of the building. She turned her headset to the general frequency of Sigma.  
'Ah fuck. Signs of ghoul infestation. Happy hunting'  
'Roger that Private. We have your six. Proceed' Rollins confirmed.  
In the main generator room, she disturbed a group of the emaciated feral humanoids feasting on a brahmin corpse. The light and noise enraged the dozen or so creatures. Brooke's blood ran cold for a heartbeat.  
'Contact! Light them up'  
Her squad abandoned their stealth approach, running to get sightlines on the scorch skinned ghouls scrambling at them on all fours. She breathed lightly, flicked her SMG to single fire, and picked her targets. The five person group cut down twice their own number and more in less that five seconds.  
'Any problems down there Alpha?' came the leader of Bravo team.  
The second group were cleanly sweeping over every room in the plant office sector in the upper levels. Charlie team remained on the roof, using night vision and long rifles to make sure nothing noticed their presence before the building was secured.  
The ghoul group was the only resistance found. The two interior groups met up after confirming their objective areas were locked down. Bravo team then went to the ground floor to lock and secure all entrances and ensure there were no ways to infiltrate their new base of operations. Charlie and Alpha had the task of moving all of the airdropped equipment inside. By dawn, the building had to look untouched save for the main doors being locked and braced.  
Around seven am, Brooke received a communication in her headset.  
'Private Rumlow, report to the roof immediately. Rollins out'  
The girl was setting up lighting rigs with Kamala in the dormant generator room when she noticed only she was the only one to hear it.  
'Khan, I got orders'  
Her squadmate simply nodded. Rollins was silhouetted against the red streaked predawn sky when Brooke joined him.  
'You wanted to see me sir?'  
'Not so much me, but him' the Sigma CO replied.  
He pointed to the satcomm array. A collection of radar dishes, domes and antennae climbing one of the chimneys to obscure it's existence. Brooke picked up a receiver.  
'This is Rumlow. Go ahead'  
'Good morning Private' came the voice of General Autumn.  
'Sir?'  
'I heard glowing praise of you and your part in taking the power station'  
'Thank you General'  
'In light of your efforts in the first of many dangerous operations, I have sanctioned a field promotion. I'll hand you back to Rollins'  
'Yes Sir'  
Her voice shook slightly at the compliments. Upon turning around, she found Jack right in front of her.  
'Hey!' she started.  
'Stellar work Rumlow. You've earned this'  
He produced a steel pin. An 'E' in a circle of stars, flanked by wings.  
'The Enclave airborne medal is yours. You have secured your place in Sigma'  
She beamed, grinning so hard that her cheeks ached slightly.  
'Appreciate it Sir'  
'As a member of Sigma, you gotta rise above it all. We're the best of the best. Got no time for basic privates here. No question, welcome aboard Specialist Rumlow'  
*  
After two weeks of orientation, Sigma were fully versed in fieldcraft and wasteland survival. Recon team duty was rotated to give all members a feel for their surroundings. Brooke got to know Kamala better when their deep cover day mission took them south. They laid on a ridge overlooking a walled military town'  
'So I'm the first person to actually join the Enclave?'  
'First person out East. Command rightfully thinks everyone on the surface is corrupted by mutation one way or another'  
'Is that what you think?'  
'I'm not here to judge. I'm here to serve America. I'm a hammer, everything else is a nail'  
'Were you born in Raven Rock?'  
'Yup. First generation Rock family. Mom and Dad fled here after the defeat in the east'  
Brooke remembered the history of the Enclave. Remnants of the government survived nuclear war on an oil platform off the California coast. An attempt was made to retake the mainland, only for a faction called the New California Republic to defeat them in open warfare in 2242. Now, only the inhabitants of Raven Rock were left. Barely fifty miles from the seat of power in the United States, it was their duty to restore the former institution of the President and executive branch.  
'What about you Rumlow? What made you ping on Autumn's radar?'  
'I had one of your eyebots take a shine to me. Followed me for days. Then for some reason it let me talk directly to the General. As soon as I mentioned coming from the Vault he brought me in'  
'Ah, you were free from physical corruption down there. Maybe once the Capital is ours we can free them from the underground prison'  
'Hold up' Brooke interrupted 'Movement'  
In the town below, she saw a group in green uniforms training in an exercise yard. Kamala recognised them from a previous recce.  
'Oh shoot. This is GTown. Germantown. It was a US Army base once. Now it's full of these squatters, masquerading as real soldiers'  
'Its disgraceful' Brooke agreed.  
Kamala's radio receiver began to buzz, cutting short the discussion.  
'We gotta head back now. Tier one priority op just came through'  
The pair got up, bagged their scoped weapons and spotting lenses, and walked the hills back to the power station. What greeted them left Brooke in disbelief. In the main generator room, General Autumn awaited them.  
'Ah, Specialists Rumlow and Khan. Finally you are all here. There's something you must all know'  
'Augustus?' Rumlow gasped.  
The general seems to shimmer. He was appearing via a holgram. A round metal disc at his feet projected the lifelike image. She could have sworn his voice sounded different. In truth, Augustus was using his natural Austrian accent. One no other Enclave members living had heard.  
'I have someone to introduce you to. If you could, Officer Rollins'  
The squad leader deployed another projection disc. From it a small, diminutive, bespectacled man appeared. He looked like the least threatening person Brooke had see, in his tweed suit and blue shirt.  
'Greetinks men ant vomen of Sigma. I am Dr Ahnim Sola. Some of you know me as a member of the Enclave Special Science Division. To others, it is good to meet you for ze first time'  
Brooke nodded, confused slightly by his accent.  
'Autumn and I are speaking to you independently if the eyes and ears of ze council. Vee find zere methods and motivations a little backward. Vy would we wish to make America great again ven zat simply lead to destruction? No, we are ze ones with our eyes forward. Innovation vill save humanity. Vee believe a major step has been made already. You vill pursue a promising lead'  
'What's the target?' Rumlow asked, flatly.  
Zola looked at Autumn and nodded. The General replied.  
'We have heard whispers of a man with supernatural speed and strength. Last known location is Fort Bannister to the south west. He may hold the answer to human evolution'  
'He got a name?'  
'The tales call him 'Captain America"  
Kamala balked at the moniker.  
'Pah, we got some superhero on our hands' she chided.  
'Nothing like knocking down a tall poppy wastelander huh?' Brooke said to her partner. Khan grinned in response, before Autumn silenced them by clearing his throat.  
'A Verti will take Alpha team at 0330 tomorrow, dropping you three clicks from Bannister which you will complete on foot. I can trust you to wait out the wastes until pick up at 2300 from the drop point. All clear?'  
'Yes General' came five voices in unison.  
*  
The rattle of the chopper didn't bother Brooke by the third journey. She counted it rhythmically, guessing it must be a mild engine issue not serious enough to put the machine out of service. Her clothes felt strange, back in similar survivalist gear like she had before that peculiar eyebot took a shine to her. The waxed jacket over woolen jumper would be enough to keep our the retreating bitter winter. Sat in the deep red light of the crew compartment with her four squadmates, Brooke wondered where that floating sphere was right then.  
'Probably in a heap of junk somewhere' she mouthed to herself.  
'Ready up Sigma, you're on the ground in thirty seconds' came the voice of the pilot over the cabin PA. This was it, she thought. No defensible home plate like the power station. No evac, no backup. It was her and four soldiers she'd known for no time at all. The fear swelled again. She leaned forward, certain that Alpha team would notice her unease. Her helmet, mismatched just like the others', had a peaked visor.  
The floor jolted as the deployed gear touched down. Hydraulic doors hissed open. Her mind cleared, a lightness coursed through her. There was no hesitation, no anxiety, only the mission. She was rearguard, moving at pace with frequent looks over her shoulder. The light on her gun shone far over empty ashen hills. She checked her Pipboy to check her location against the places she visited working for Moira. Her jaw clenched at the proximity of Vault 101. Her lost home was barely three miles to the east. Drifting thoughts were cast aside when movement flickered. She blinked, unsure of the cause. Something skittered in the corner of the illuminated land.  
'Rollins? Got something back here'  
She didn't take her eyes off the direction of the movement. At the front of the column, Jack tapped Lockhart's shoulder and pointed back to where Rumlow was crouched. As he moved by Khan, she sighted something similar to the group's left.  
'I got a contact too Rollins. I think we got a bug problem!'  
She was right. Hundreds of legs moved in the darkness between their light beams. Every few seconds, two light arcs would converge, completely revealing a monstrous bug. Rollins tried to gauge the numbers around them before making a call to engage or run. He settled for both.  
'Move, double time. Keep lights sweeping. And get your helmet lamps on if you have them!'  
Brooke reached for the switch on the side of her head. It clicked. Nothing happened.  
'No. No no no. Fuck!' she cursed.  
She kept pace with the other four, desperate to stick to her rearguard duty. Everywhere she pointed the weapon became filled with encroaching and fleeing bugs, desperate to close in on her in the darkness. With moments to spare, she realised she had a secondary light source. Frantic fingers turned the dial on the Pipboy. Her wrist device flashed up in the shadows, revealing chittering mandibles of a six foot spider inches from her face. Brooke's screams caught Kamala's attention. She whipped around, a three shot burst from the M16 ripping through the arachnid.  
'On Rumlow, Alpha'  
The team moved back, creating a circle of light covering a 360 degree perimeter. Reloading was synched up to keep everyone covered.  
'Single fire, conserve your ammo!' Rollins ordered.  
Every bug that got close was put down with a sole bullet each but still the scrambling horde writhed through the shadows around the team. After a few moments, a voice in their headsets allowed them to breath.  
'Sigma be advised, this is Verti 2-4. Danger close fire mission has been authorised. Hold your exact position. Hard rain is inbound'  
The chopper descended at breakneck speed but made no noise. At barely fifty feet it burst into view. All fog lamps and signal lights flashed brilliantly over Brooke and the team. The horde of hulking invertebrates was finally visible in it's entirety, making Brooke's skin turn cold. There was no shadows for the skittering bugs to run to. Rockets and machine guns ripped through massed, panicking creatures. Sigma could only listen to the symphony of violence, they themselves dazzled by the Vertibird's timely intervention.  
After ten minutes of engagement, the Verti was spent.  
'Sigma we are bingo on fuel. 2-4 returning to Romeo Two'  
'Much appreciated 2-4' Rollins replied.  
The group had to trudge through heaps of corpses up to their knees in places. It slowed their movement, but no further insect attacks came. After a half hour, the squad leader updated their progress.  
'Alpha team, we've reached sector designated Jury Street. Threat level red. We get through this shit heap quick and quiet'  
Brooke gazed as the separate gun lights flashed over the increasingly intact buildings. Near the centre of the town, she saw little ruin at all. She saw nobody or nothing living. It didn't make sense for such a defensible, habitable locale to be a ghost town. It simply added to her disdain for those that lived in the Wasteland. At the central crossroad they pressed west.  
At the limit of the town, Brooke spied two fresh graves on the roadside. Branches tied together as crosses marked them, with hanging dog tags glinting in the light of her torch. The metal plates hanging from her neck felt oddly heavy. The words escaped her lips before she processed them.  
'Hold up Alpha!'  
The surprise and indignation at the newly promoted girl halting the group gave her enough time to grab the tags.  
'Specialist Rumlow, what is this interruption?' Rollins barked.  
'Nothing, carry on'  
The crater and ruin strewn outskirts of Fort Bannister had to be traversed carefully. For the task, the young Specialist was the best equipped. Brooke was moved up to the front to guide them around lethal pockets of radiation using her Pipboy. They came across the hollow, open roofed base admin that held the basement access just as the sun began to rise. Their approach was cautious, despite the absence of sound or activity. Rollins lead the team low through a drainage channel to the open front gate. Thawed snow left the ground clogged with mud, forcing them back onto the road. Signs of battle remained. Birds picked at bodies stripped of weapons and armor. Tents lay where they collapsed. Brooke quickly noticed there was nothing alive here.  
'This place is dead Rollins. What are we hoping to find?' she asked as they walked to a strange hole in the earth. Using her torch, she lit up a metal floor some thirty feet below, past a tunnel of rock.  
'What the hell is this place Jack?'  
Before he could respond, Lockhart called from the southern wall.  
'Got something! A drone. If it's alive we can see what it saw'  
'Excellent. This place has clearly seen action recently. Our last field report put this as the centre of a mercenary crew's operations. Now it's a graveyard. Varr? Anything at your side?'  
'Uh... affirmative' Edith called back, 'But I don't know what. Better get over here'  
The whole squad converged to the North West corner. Torn, burned remains of three parachutes clung to the walls and broken floors. Below, there was a half buried, metal figure of a man. The surface was melted in places. The five soldiers gazed at the sight. Not one could even begin to make sense of the peculiar sight.  
'Well if we all got nothing on this weirdness, we better go. There's an inn for traders not far from here. Kaelyn's. We lay low for the day then call the Verti to rendezvous point Charlie. Fuck fighting those bugs again. Agreed?'  
'Yes Sir'  
*  
Brooke joined the members of Sigma not on recon or guard duty to observe what Lockhart could pull from the drone. He opened it's black plastic casing using various tools, then pulled several wires out. Connections were cut and spliced to a monitor on his workstation.  
'Okay, I should be able to run deencryption on the footage...oh...it isn't encrypted. By the looks of it, the machine relayed radio broadcast too. I can pull the audio track separately. Here we go'  
The video began to play. Brooke watched intently as the drone was released from a rooftop by two people in green and tan combat armor.  
'Those guys Talon?' Kamala asked.  
'Nah. Rangers' Varr corrected.  
Reilly's Rangers, Brooke thought. She remembered the name from what the blond woman, Karina, told her that first day in Megaton.  
The drone continued to rise until Rollins recognised where it began it's flight.  
'It came from Jury Street. Looks like Rangers were on a job here'  
Over the base, the flying machine zoomed in on three individuals moving into positions around Bannister's heart. Finally, two men, one large and muscular, as they assaulted the base.  
'The big fella could be our guy...yeah he just took the door off a truck. This guy's a beast' Rollins narrated.  
They watched with awe the aforementioned soldier fight multiple Talon mercs with the door, using fast reflexes to deflect gunfire.  
'He's definitely our guy' Rumlow said, nodding.  
The feed ended with an explosion originating from the site of the strange hole. Debris flew up, evidently grounding the drone.  
'So with a bit of luck we can get a name through the radio chatter. The file length implies it continued relaying after being brought down' Lockhart informed the squad.  
A name sounded familiar early on in the exchanges. Barnes. Brooke toyed with the idea of it being the guard sergeant from the Vault. Another name made her forget it. It made her forget everything. She felt light, like her feet might leave the ground.  
'Rogers'  
It couldn't be, she reasoned. He was dead. Her father confirmed it. Her father. She hadn't given him any thought since leaving. Brooke assumed he had died in the wastes, as she would have had she not encountered Karina. The name came up again. Full this time. Steve Rogers. It came as a kick to the chest. Her father looked her straight in the eye and told her he had succumbed to his illnesses.  
'This Rogers guy, think he's the one we're after?' Varr pondered.  
The team went silent when Brooke announced the truth she could barely believe herself.  
'Its him. Steve Rogers. I know, knew him. Grew up with him in the Vault but. No, it's not possible'  
'What isn't?' Rollins pressed.  
'He was weak. Ill. Dying. I think the doctor in 101 gave him something to make him like that'  
'This doctor, Autumn would more than likely have us find him. Can you get us into the Vault?'  
'No, he's not there. I don't know where he is'  
Her voice cracked. Tears welled no matter how much she blinked them back.  
'I don't know where my father is'


	20. Rivet City - 5th February 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark arrives home to reflect on his ordeal

Virginia Potts never thought she would achieve anything more than find a steady job to get by in the ship city. A small apartment to herself, nine to five rat run as a bookkeeper for someone. Anyone. She had read and studied and taught herself the complexities of mathematics, business, and economics. The last two required direct observations as the existing world of market trading was far from what she found in old textbooks. Nobody looked twice at the young woman watching, listening, and taking notes. Rivet City's market was where she started and where she ended up after travelling with hired Rangers. The trading halls of Megaton, Arefu, Bigtown, and Olney amazed and inspired her over two years developing a trade she had to create herself.  
It was when she returned to Rivet that her life changed forever. Potts had every intention of offering her services to Quint Bannon, proprietor of the clothing store Potomac Attire.  
On that day, with a messy folder full of her work ready to impress Bannon, she stepped right into the path of Tony Stark. The well dressed man had only just secured the lucrative pitch for arms sales in Rivet City's hangar market. He spotted her walking by with her head down.  
'Hey strawberry blonde what's the hurry?'  
The first thing he ever said to her was a comment on her hurried pace and hair colour. For reasons she couldn't fathom, she turned to face the man, stood there with a wooden desk and an open bag of guns.  
'I'm just going for an interview?' she replied.  
'For what? Let me guess. Those heels, that dress...you want to keep the books balanced?'  
'Yeah how did you guess that?'  
'I Just get things. Tell you what. I have accounts in need of accounting. How about it?'  
She challenged him there and then. Not even had his name yet.  
'How hard can it be to keep your bag of broomsticks in order?'  
She found out over the next five years that accounting for SRP Armorer's was the easy side of her responsibilities. Being one of Stark's two friends was the true challenge. Rhodes was required to return to Germantown regularly, leaving her to keep an eye on the hard drinking, partying, lothario. He never gave her real trouble. If she asked him to call it a night, he would without question.  
There had been a dozen times that Stark would go off the grid. Every single time he would be found by Potts's resourcefulness, or just remembering details of women he was pursuing. The events surrounding his disappearance in December 2277 immediately set off alarm bells in her head. Tony was never a fan of cold weather. He always put it down to being unable to be seen in his flashy suits if he was hidden under warm layers. He said he was going to Megaton with two Rangers that he had hired previously. The new year came around and she heard nothing from him. Still she pressed on. Potts opened SRP on reduced hours and days as Rhodes was on some dedicated op in his hometown. A week into the new year and she couldn't leave it be any longer. She spoke to JARVIS for the first time, being intimidated by the AI up until then. The vocal interface informed her that Stark had been in contact with the leader of Talon company. She tried contacting the Rangers, only to be stonewalled by Reilly, angered by the loss of her men. Rhodes was her last hope. He pulled through, with Stark returning to Rivet City with the Rangers on the 15th of January. She surprised herself with the outpouring of emotion when he walked across the bridge. He was skinnier, unshaven for the first time, and also without a suit. The rangers had loaned him a green jumpsuit for the return. It covered the arc reactor and electromagnet in his chest, which Potts only discovered when she embraced him. He only found humor in her fawning.  
'What's the matter Pepper? Missed me?'  
'Tony I can't believe you. What is that under your clothes?'  
'Oh it's something that all men have. It's a-'  
'No on your chest. Something hard'  
'I'm not a fan of long stories so; nearly died. Didn't die. Got shrapnel in my chest and this keeps it from killing me'  
'Oh my God. Wait what?'  
'I had to invent a new power source for it. It's called an arc reactor'  
'You have a nuclear device on your body?'  
'Not even close, it's a palladium fueled ion circuit'  
She stared at him, watching the breeze blow his messy hair about.  
'Can we just get inside the ship Tony?'  
'Yeah, great idea' he said, clapping his hands.  
Virginia took him to her apartment in the ship's tower to get him cleaned up. Once inside she, almost dutifully, began to unbutton the green jumpsuit. He said nothing, just watched for her reaction.  
'Oh god' she gasped softly.  
A tentative finger touched the device, feeling the slight warmth from the gently pulsing blue glow.  
The scarring around the electromagnet was steadily healing. Potts seemed to absent mindedly touch those too. For the first time in his life, Tony just kept quiet and let Potts continue. Her touch calmed him to a level never felt. Finally, his overwhelming sarcastic mouth broke out for a second.  
'You aren't going to file a workplace complaint are you Pepper? I mean I don't think there was a physical contact clause-'  
'Shut up Tony. Let me just come to terms with you being back'  
'Alright'  
'I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm being like this. You're just my boss but-'  
'I'm also your friend? I mean I hope I am because you're one of two people I'd call a friend'  
She laughed through a grin.  
'Of course you absolute fool. Now go have a shower, I'll grab something from your place to change into'  
Stark spent almost half an hour under the warm water. The shower in Potts's was one of the most reliable in the ship, as Tony engineered it himself. His apartment had a similar unit, but this one now had a distinct memory attached. Watching the water turn black around his feet felt like the events of the last month washing off. The dirt was gone but he couldn't shake the memories, couldn't shake the last words of Singh as well as Reilly.  
When Rhodes, Barnes, Rogers and the two sharpshooters brought him back to Jury Street, He drifted in and out of consciousness. His only recollection of the journey was the dark haired woman, Rebecca, confirming to him that she destroyed the suit. The two waiting Ranger teams were less than welcoming on the disheveled arms dealer's return to their midst. He was helped into a chair in the tool shopped and given food and water. Both were brought by Rhodes, with whom Stark tried to joke around with. James was having none of it, shutting down Tony's mistimed joviality.  
'Stark you gotta at least pretend to feel remorseful God damn it'  
'I don't think I know how Rhodey'  
'Well learn. They found the two guards that you dragged out here'  
'Oh shoot'  
The fate of Luke Farrant and Matthew Westaway came back to him like a boot to the chest. It wasn't known whether the memory made him vomit up the MRE peanut paste or his emaciated state. He pushed himself up, against Rhodes's protests, and stumbled through the shop to find Reilly.  
'Commander Tiernan…' he gasped.  
The red haired leader noted immediately both his use of her rank and last name. She pulled herself from the after action debrief with Lawson and Gerhardt.  
'Mr Stark? Isn't it a bit soon to be standing up by yourself' she asked flatly.  
'I'm alive. By all means I shouldn't be' he grunted.  
Rhodes held his friend up when he started to collapse. Tony stubbornly continued.  
'Far better men are gone because of me. I know that much. I wanted to say sorry to you'  
Reilly's jaw clenched. She seemed to turn from Stark, and addressed the nine Rangers in the midst of packing their gear.  
'Rangers!' she barked.  
At once they all stood to attention.  
'Which names will be added to the wall in Seward?'  
With an unrehearsed synchronisation, they filled the air with the names of the fallen.  
'And why do we consign them to the wall?'  
'So their name liveth for evermore Commander' the chorus chanted.  
'That's right. At ease Rangers'  
She turned back to Stark and Rhodes. Tony struggled to keep eye contact. Reilly's steely gaze cut through him.  
'You're right about better men dying for your pathetic self. I don't know what you did to get my guys to follow you out here and, fuck it, I don't want to know. It was an RPG that killed them wasn't it?'  
'As far as I remember yes'  
Reilly turned to Gerhardt, who was nearest to the roof access ladder.  
'Get Barnes down here, get her to bring it'  
In his improved state, Stark noticed that the woman that came down into the store was wearing Germantown combat uniform instead of the Rangers Armor. His stomach dropped at the sight of the RPG-7 launch mechanism.  
'Barnes has a good eye for forensics. Tell them' the commander said.  
'This was fired once a few weeks ago. It was found on a corner that lines up where the rocket hit an opposing wall. Injuries on the deceased Rangers match explosive trauma. This is the one commander'  
Reilly nodded. With an expression matching concealed anger she looked back at Tony one last time.  
'Show it to him Sargeant Barnes'  
The woman turned the tube around, showing a stamped metal plate above the handle.  
'SRP Armorer's' Stark mumbled.  
He heard Rhodes sigh heavily next to him. The group split up and went their separate ways, with Rhodes, Barnes, and Rogers returning to Germantown. Reilly reluctantly agreed to take Stark to DC, but only two Rangers escorted him once they reached Arlington. The commander and her team headed below ground, traversing the metro tunnels to Seward Square. Neither Ranger said a word to Tony for the entirety of their journey.  
Virginia grew worried that he had fallen in the shower after hearing only the hiss of the water when she returned with fresh clothes. The knock on the bathroom door pulled Stark back to the present. He wrapped himself from the waist down with a towel and rejoined her in the lounge.  
At his request, and despite never having done such a thing before, Virginia gave Tony a straight razor shave. As often experienced before, she found herself obliging the man but not really knowing why. Once she began, a swirling confusion began within her. The man she was holding a razor to the throat of who was realistically the cause of all her life's issues from the last five years. Another feather light scrape across Stark's neck, watched with feverish attention. She removed all the hair from his face except his signature circle around his mouth. Once finished, she finally relaxed and leant slightly on the sofa on which Tony sat.  
'I got a professional courtesy call from General Schwartz at Gtown' she began, passing him the purple hooded sweater.  
'About Rhodey?' he asked.  
'Yeah. He's getting six months for desertion'  
'But he came back by his own volition?'  
'Yeah, thats why it wasn't double that. If the GTown army has to come drag you home, you're looking at couple years'  
'Looks like you're pulling double duty as my better judgement Pepper'  
She snorted lightly through her nose at his jest.  
'I know you want to hide behind the jokes and bluster, but come on. What happened to you Tony?'  
He relented at took her through it all. The deception. The deaths of the Rangers. The surgery to save his life carried out by a man he'd never met. Replicating his father's Arc reactor from memory. The task to fix the tank. Then came the suit.  
'You made a suit?'  
'Not so much made one. I cobbled together a whole power armor exoskeleton in Bannister's repair yard. Had to fashion my own armor segments from parts pulled from Humvees, Strykers, Abrams, Bradleys, the lot. The weapons were all scratchbuilt. Obviously they wouldn't lock me in a room full of guns. I couldn't have done it without…'  
He went quiet at the thought of Tahir again.  
'He told me I had a chance to change things. That I shouldn't waste my life'  
'What did he mean?'  
'I don't know, but I'm going to figure it out. How's the business? You haven't bankrupted me in my absence?'  
'Yeah Tony. Your accountant completely forgot how numbers work while you were gone. We have nothing left'  
Finally, Stark's relentless sarcasm was rubbing off on her.  
'I better go fix what you broke then'  
His attempt to get up was stopped by a gentle hand on his chest.  
'Tony...you don't have to go straight back down there. Look, it's almost the day's end, you've only just got back'  
'What are you saying Pep?'  
'Stay here with me, if only for the evening. I'll make you something, anything you want to eat. Just take it easy for once in your life'


	21. Canterbury Commons - 5th February 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint Barton eyes up a new recruit, but she has demons to face.

The dark dreams came to Samantha for the third night in a row. She was eighteen again, travelling the Wasteland with Garrett Young. The dreams diverged from reality in the same way each time. The pair crossed the Potomac at Seneca bridge, heading north. In the ghost town of Seneca they encountered a lone man. He was sat in a boarded up storefront and flagged them down. His attention and mannerisms unnerved Samantha from the start.  
'Hey y'all. Lovely day to travel huh?' he sneered.  
Garrett has none of his friend's apprehension, responding politely.  
'Certainly is pal. What brings you here?'  
'Oh me?' he said getting up 'Just searching for something. As everyone is really. I think I'm close now so I'll be on my way. Take care out there friend'  
When the stranger offered to shake Garrett's hand, his receding sleeve revealed three black bars tattoo'd on his forearm. Samantha thought nothing of them, until the man hurriedly obscured the markings and left. On telling Garrett what she'd seen, the young man began to panic.  
'Aww shit. No no no. Come on, we have to move now!'  
He seized her hand and began to run. The road they intended to take followed the river to the North West. Samantha called for Garrett to explain his urgency.  
'He's marked us. That man was a spotter for the slavers at Paradise Falls. He would have found a snatch squad by now'  
'What are we going to do?'  
'Run. Hide. Fight. They won't stop until we have collars round our necks or they're dead'  
The dream intensified the fear she felt in those hours. Running in her travelling coat left her body burning, drenched in sweat. At a junction, they left the main road to vanish into the remains of a private academy school. The old stone buildings mostly resisted ruination. From a second floor window, the pair saw the slaver group enter the school grounds. The lead members had dogs on chains. Drooping snouts keenly scanning the road.  
'Tracker hounds. Fuck. They'll find us no matter what' Garrett cursed.  
He paced back and forth away from the window as Samantha stayed low. It was at that moment that she became lucid. She knew everything that was about to transpire. Garrett was surprised when she got to her feet.  
'Come with me, we're going to get out of this together or not at all'  
Samantha looked straight into the young man's eyes. Already she could see his plan to save her.  
'Together Garrett!'  
She followed his actions as he did all those years ago, except she concealed the explosives on pillars under a weakened hallway. In reality, Garrett blew himself up along with the slavers. They feigned surrender together, watching the group approach them. Dogs strained on their chains until they were under the hidden incendiaries.  
Samantha pulled the gun from her belt and…  
Nothing.  
The gun in her hand was just a blank object. The dream faded. The plastered ceiling of her bedroom came into view.  
'For fuck's sake' she whispered hoarsely.  
The nightmare had soaked her in sweat but her mouth was dry. Light leaked into the room around the edges of her curtains as she got up. From outside her door she heard movement, followed by a knock.  
'Sam? Are you up?' came the voice of her father.  
'Yeah, give me a minute'  
'Okay. There's someone outside waiting for you'  
Samantha asked who it was but only heard her father walking back downstairs. A cold shiver swept over her, making the hairs on her arm stand on end. She could count the number of people who even knew who she was on one hand, never mind that she was in Canterbury. Sam threw on clothes bundled on the floor by her bed. Before leaving the room, she peeled back the curtain to gaze out onto the street, scanning all the faces for one she didn't recognise. There were no strangers as far as she could tell. Hanging on her door was her complete flight harness, where it had been hanging since Christmas Day. She wondered for a second, then grabbed one of the machine pistols.  
Her father seemed to share none of her apprehension when she passed her at the bottom of the stairs. If anything, there was a look of pride on Martin's face. Samantha frowned in response. Both her parents clearly knew something about this visitor that she didn't.  
Stepping out into the clouded day, she felt the receding cold bite immediately. The jeans, vest, and woolen sweater weren't enough but she had no time to think about it. Her visitor was leaning against the wall just to her right. She made sure her weapon was visible, gripped low in one hand.   
The newcomer was dressed in a black outdoors jacket zipped up to his chin. His shades sat over his eyes despite the lack of sun. A purple strap across his front held a long object on his back.  
'You're looking for me?' she said bluntly.  
'I'm looking for someone, that much is true. I'm also looking for some good eats. I heard the diner here is renowned'  
Something about his jovial tone made her regret her harsh opening words.  
'Uh yeah, it's my mom's'  
The hard edge in her voice had dropped.  
'I'm starving, want to come with? The names Clint'  
'Samantha...and yeah, give me a second'  
Her face turned warm and red as she ducked back inside her house. Her father's brow raised when she passed him her gun without a word.  
Sam walked behind Clint down the high street, noticing the object on his back was a bow and quiver of arrows.  
'You came here alone Robin Hood?'  
'Haha original. Yes I did. I have a partner but she's someone else right now'  
'Don't you mean somewhere else?'  
'No'  
Her frown went unseen by Barton. As they passed the house inhabited by the Tiernan brothers, Samantha caught the eye of Fergus. The young man was smoking outside the front door. She pointed to her eyes, then at Barton. Fergus nodded. At the diner he put the weapon and took a seat in a booth by the window. She joined him, giving a reassuring thumbs up to her mother. Behind Barton, she saw Fergus leaning against a lamppost, gun in hand.  
The two of them remained silent until Annelise brought over a steaming coffee pot and two mugs. Barton accepted the drink, holding Sam's attention as he pointed far too much sugar into it.  
'Want any coffee with that sugar?'  
He only smiled in response. Once Sam's mother returned to the bar did she talk to Barton.  
'So what's your deal Clint? You can drop the quiet and mysterious thing now'  
'No problem Samantha. I'm Agent Barton, and I'm with SWORD'  
She couldn't mask her surprise.  
'Sword? As in Strategic Wasteland Operations and Research Division?'  
'Last I checked that's what it stands for'  
'Wow. I thought you guys were just a Boogeyman made up to scare bad guys'  
'We are. But some times you gotta roll up and shoot the bad guy between the eyes'  
Sam laughed and raised her coffee.  
'I'll drink to that'  
Their mugs clinked, though both were far too hot to drink.  
'So what is an agent from a group of shadow vigilantes doing looking for me?'  
Barton blew into his coffee and took a sip. Before he could answer, Annelise returned with an open notebook and a pen.  
'So you two, what can I get ya?' she chirped.  
'I'll have the large breakfast' Clint proudly declared.  
'Just eggs and toast Mom'  
'Coming right up'  
Annelise looked at Barton then Samantha just long enough to make her daughter uncomfortable.  
'So you were saying?' she said once her mother had departed again.  
'Oh yeah. So our group is headed up by an idealist. A bit of a maverick. Nicholas J Fury. He has a taste for the unconventional'  
'He gave you that bow?'  
'Not quite. I had the bow when he found me. What he gave me was a purpose'  
'You think I don't have a purpose?'  
'We think you have skills and resources to do great things. Nobody else can do what you can do Samantha Wilson'  
'Ane what would that be?'  
'Fly. The story of the winged scavenger turned messenger is told from Rivet City up to Olney and back. Hell, you're more talked about than Captain America'  
'The guy with the shield? No way'  
'It's true. Only it was a door, not a shield' Barton corrected, 'Just shows how stories get exaggerated as they travel'  
'So you want me to join your little team of Archer boy and a woman with identity issues?'  
'Yes'  
'I'll consider it on one condition Clint'  
'Name it'  
'We finish the food, then you're going to come with me on a journey. There's somewhere out west I need to go'  
*  
Wilson and Barton stood at the main gate to Roosevelt Academy. He assumed she was scanning the buildings for threats like he was. In truth, Samantha was struggling to move through fear brought up by being here again.  
'I can't see anyone here. We going in or what?'  
She hadn't told him the purpose of their half day walk from Canterbury to the Academy, nor was she sure he wasn't out to kill her either. Every combination of words to explain herself to this stranger spiralled around her mind, yet her mouth wouldn't move. Her jaw clenched, tears began to well. Clint noticed, himself trying to formulate a response.  
'This place means something to you doesn't it?' he prodded.  
She only nodded.  
'And it has something to do with why you were grounded?'  
'Grounded?'  
'Literally, Sam. The Falcon dropped off our radar some time ago. We thought you'd hung up your wings for good'  
Samantha snorted, wiping her tears on her sleeve.  
'I'm the Falcon now, am I?'  
'That's the name of the suit, right? There was an arms dealer in Rivet who knew a lot about it'  
Her thoughts tumbled back to Tony Stark. It was his amiability was one of the things that drove her home. Shaking her head, she kept focus on Barton as he continued.  
'Though in your line of work we may as well call you The Pigeon'  
Samantha cracked, laughing heartily and leaning on her knees. The movement shook the last tears from her cheeks.  
'What made you quit Sam?' he said with a hand on her shoulder.  
'It wasn't the job I wanted to leave behind. I love these wings and the freedom they bring. No, it was people I couldn't bear any more'  
Samantha couldn't seem to halt her truths. She had known Clint Barton for half a day, yet felt the need to tell him everything. There was no stigma around unloading on a relative stranger. The Archer sighing loudly and putting hands on his hips.  
'You're gonna come with me, feathers. Come on. It will be worth it'  
She followed, bewildered, into the crumbling school. Barton followed faded signs to the dormitory wing.  
'Clint? Where are you going?'  
He seemed possessed, searching for something but refused to divulge what. Finding an intact room he entered.  
'God help me bow boy I will shoot you if you don't tell me why we're here'  
The Archer felt along a wood panelled wall until he felt a hollow tap.  
'Here we go' he cheered.  
Samantha grimaced when Barton put his elbow through the wall. The crash echoed through the room and down the halls. Ignoring the cloud of dust, he pulled at the wood to widen the hole. Her confusion became surprise when a case of beers was pulled from the exposed cavity.  
'You got to have faith in teenagers. World was set alight but the booze stays hidden. Come on, let's find somewhere cool to crack open a few of these'  
Samantha shook her head and followed him further into the school. Barton chose the bell tower. The narrow spiral stair to the top was only wide enough for one to climb at a time. The bell itself was absent, having fallen and crashed through a neighboring roof long ago. It left a fair sized area for the pair to sit and take in the miles of land visible in all directions. Sam felt a light cold wind blowing. Her flight suit heating elements made up for the exposed chill. Barton opened two bottles with an arrowhead and passed her one.  
'Not going to have chattering teeth Clint?'  
'No. No, SWORD keeps us nice and cosy in these climate controlled uniforms. Prost'  
He held his drink out to her.  
'What?'  
'It's German for cheers. My partner uses a different translation every time'  
'Oh, right'  
She obliged the gesture, then sat back against the half height tower wall. Clint sat opposite.  
'So what happened here that made you push everyone away?'  
Barton got straight to the point. She knocked back the rest of her bottle then gasped.  
'I grew up in Tenpenny Tower. A shock, I know'  
'That is a surprise. Wouldn't pen you as one of them'  
'When I was sixteen my parents wanted to leave. Dad had been in contact with Canterbury. They had a house and jobs lined up. Leaving Tenpenny I lost my first best friend. My sister refused to go'  
'What made her stay?'  
'Her boyfriend. Now husband. She hasn't once left that tower. So I went to Canterbury with a hole in my heart. You will kick yourself when I tell you who I find there'  
'You can kick me instead Sam. I can't be bothered to stand up right now'  
'Oh fine. I feel like kicking you either way'  
'Why, what did I do?'  
'Got me spilling my darkness after plying me with booze you fucking weirdo. Anyway, so the first person we encounter after making the journey is a flame haired girl with a mean rifle in her hands. Reilly Tiernan'  
'As in, Reilly's Rangers Reilly?'  
'Exactly Clint. The very same. My first encounter with her was staring down the barrel of a gun. We become friends. We become close friends. And then…'  
'She leaves too?'  
'Not yet. First we spend four years falling in love'  
'Oh. That must have been good right?'  
'It was the last time I felt true happiness, yet I look back on it with sadness'  
'Because she left you as well?'  
'No because I was too scared to go with her. She was done being a small town guard girl. She wanted to go into the middle of DC and get paid to kick all manner of ass. I fought tooth and nail to stop her. It sounded like suicide right?'  
'I could understand the apprehension Sam. Her success has been against the odds'  
'And all that time I could have been there. Fuck. So there's strike two, but it's on me. Jesus fucking Christ you shoulda seen me in the weeks after Reilly went South. If you think I'm a bitch now then well…'  
'I feel like you aren't about to pull out a home run after two strikes eh Sam?'  
'Nope. I hitch a ride with a trader that rolls into town at the end of a self destructive bender. He made me happy, gave me a reason to continue. For a year he was my best friend'  
She stood up, gesturing for Barton to join her at the edge of the tower.  
'That building, right there? That's where he died so I would live and I hate him for it'  
'He died for you?'  
'Slavers had us marked. He took them all out with him'  
'And you hate him for dying?'  
'Dying without me. Or at least instead of me. He was good. He was kind. It should have been me'  
Samantha didn't react when Barton put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.  
'Survivor's guilt. I've seen it before Sam'  
'You can't pretend to know how I feel. You've never had a friend like Garrett's  
'If you're assuming I don't have someone who would die for me, I do. Her name is Natalya Romanov. If she gave her life for me, I sure as hell wouldn't waste it'  
Samantha brushed off the hand, walking to the opposite wall.   
'You were sent to recruit me into your little super squad. What part of the plan was being the shrink I didn't ask for?'  
'SWORD isn't a day-care centre Samantha Wilson. We don't want broken people. We want people with the resolve to fix themselves. You're not ready yet'  
'Like hell I am. I could be twice what you are with that stupid bow'  
'I don't doubt that. You have unfinished business. See to it. Then come find us. I trust you to keep this confidential. SWORD HQ is at the scrapyard, the one we passed on the way here. I look forward to your arrival, Falcon'  
Clint didn't even blink as the woman before him climbed unsteadily onto the ledge. Facing him, she threw up both middle fingers and fell backwards. Clint sighed and counted in his fingers. Three seconds passed before the winged Samantha hovered before him. She yelled to him over the roar of her jet engines.  
'Do we all get cool names in this super team? And am I stuck with Falcon?'  
'Well with your last profession I was gonna call you The Pigeon'  
'Falcon is fine. What's your call sign Clint?'  
'Hawkeye'  
'I'll see you soon Hawkeye' she smiled.  
He smiled back, watching her ascend and angle towards the south east. Alone, Barton felt content to stand in the tower a little longer.  
'Seward Square isn't ready for you yet, Wilson. They won't know what hit them' he said to himself.


	22. Megaton - 20th February 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossbones, a Captain, and a Widow walk into a bar...

Steve sat at the desk in the hotel room late into the afternoon. His mind wandered as he idly sketched with a pencil. Several months of living on the surface had naturalised him to solar cycles of the sun, unlike the artificial days made in Vault 101. The interior of Megaton was in perpetual darkness, with only scattered rays piercing the scrap metal dome. The only light that came through the window in the hotel room was the blinking red glow from a nearby neon sign. He kept the mismatched curtains drawn as he put pencil to paper. At night the red light would gently fill the room as he slept with Rebecca.  
Rogers was completely lost in his work, not noticing the door quietly opening behind him. The figure threw down her coat in the bed and approached him. Her bare feet tingled on the cold metal floor, making no noise. She moved quickly, pulling the yellow pencil from his fingers a split second before throwing an arm around him. A smile across his face broke the man's focus.  
'What have you drawn today?' she giggled.  
He got up after an hour of being motionless when she pulled the piled sheets from the desk, scattering the sketches on the bed.  
'Still trying to be an amateur biologist then Steve?' Rebecca asked.  
The assorted grey line drawings were all of the various creatures they had encountered, from the two headed, red skinned cows known as Brahmin, to the shaggy Bighorners that appeared to be somewhere between rams and bison. One image caught the girl's eye. It was her. Once she picked it up, Steve whisked it from her hands.  
'Thats a work in progress Becky' he quipped, cheeks flushing red.  
'Aww look at you getting all romantic and embarrassed'  
She gathered up the sheets and put them on the desk, then spun into Steve's arms.  
'They are good, especially from memory Steve. How was work?'  
'Short. We got the new building put up and done by three this afternoon...I have no idea how long I've been here. What time is it?'  
'Babe it's just gone six. Check you out with your early finish'  
Rogers had quickly found a peaceful job within Megaton, putting his strength to use as part of the city's construction and maintenance unit. Rebecca was headhunted shortly after their arrival a month before. Her, albeit brief, time as a Germantown soldier caught the attention of a rifle range owner.  
Jackson M Falsworth was the founder of Falsworth's Firearms. He specialised in training and upkeep of weaponry of all calibres. His business was located in a former storehouse on the edge of the crater, one of the few buildings long enough to safely facilitate long range weapon use indoors.  
The thirty two year old just happened to be having a drink with his girlfriend in Jenny Stahl's bar the day Rebecca and Steve arrived. Their uniforms caught his eye, much to his companion, Beth Waltham's chagrin. Once the pair of Vault exiles left the bar, he apologized to Beth and approached Stahl.  
'Hey, none of my business but we're they GTowners Jenny?'  
'They sure were hun. Friends of yours?'  
'No. Well not yet, fingers crossed. I'm after someone with their expertise'  
'You're in luck Jax. I just put them two up in a suite upstairs. Stick around and I'm sure you'll catch them before they disappear in town'  
The next morning, he staked out the bar, waiting until just after eleven for Steve and Rebecca to reappear. The latter looked worse for wear after the previous night's excesses when Jackson approached their table.  
'Hey there newcomers. Do you mind if I join you? I noticed ya arrive last night'  
'Sure thing' Steve smiled, 'I'm Steve Rogers, this is Becky Barnes'  
'A pleasure. The names Jackson Falsworth but call me Jax'  
Rebecca looked at him through hands covering her face, her elbows on the table.  
'Hey Jax. Sorry I'm a mess today. How can we help you?'  
'As I said I saw you arrive here last night and couldn't help but see your GTown uniforms'  
'Yeah we got kicked out for going AWOL' Rebecca groaned.  
'So you won't be going back? Even better' Jackson said, elated, 'I have an offer for either or both of you'  
Steve was immediately apprehensive.  
'We aren't guns for hire, so if it's a close protection job you want I'll recommend Reilly's Rangers'  
'Oh no no. Not that at all. I'm looking for a new full time instructor at my range'  
Rebecca looked at him with a furrowed brow as Jenny brought them water and food, finally taking her hands from her face. She noticed Steve was only looking at his food as he ate. When she nudged him he simply shrugged.  
'I'm not the biggest fan of guns, you go for it Becky'  
Jackson looked at her expectantly.  
'Yeah, why not?' she said, smiling.  
A month later, Rebecca picked up the backpack she put down before ambushing Steve, showing him the contents.  
'More clothes?' he queried.  
'Not just any clothes Baby, and not just for any occasion either'  
'You got something planned?'  
'Hell yes I do. You know Jocelyn from work? I've definitely told you about her before'  
'You have. The one with the dog?'  
'Yes! So she's friends with the guy that runs the Halcyon Club'  
'I don't like where this is going'  
'Don't be a stick in the mud Steve. We can get in there tonight. Just once. Come on, it will be fun'  
'Fine. We'll go. As long as it doesn't end up like the last time'  
'What are you taking about Dummy, that was amazing'  
A week before, Steve and Rebecca were invited to a celebratory evening of revelry with the former's work crew. Their bar of choice was of particular disrepute, as popular with thieves and thugs as it was with maintenance workers. Mallory's Tavern was a dive, through and through. The pair drew the attention of an egotistical gun for hire called Jericho quickly. The man was tall, though still dwarfed by Steve, and didn't take well to the girl's song choice on the jukebox. As Rebecca danced, drawing eyes to her, Jericho sided up to Steve at the bar.  
'That broad? She yours?' he rasped.  
'She's not a broad, and she's not anybody's. Would you like to start this conversation again?'  
Jericho grinned, looking down, then took a draught from his beer.  
'So if she ain't yours, heh. She could be mine?'  
He stepped forward, before Steve's hand on his shoulder made him pause.  
'Just think about what you're doing. For a second'  
'Fuck off' Jericho spat, shaking Steve's hand off.  
Rogers sighed and leaned back on the bar. He raised a finger, the server passing him another whiskey. He didn't hear what Jericho whispered in Rebecca's ear, only making an assumption based on what she did next. She smiled at him, placing both hands on the tall man's shoulders. The sly grin on his face vanished when the girl pulled him close, ramming her knee between his legs. Jericho didn't hit the ground before two members of Steve's work crew seized him by the arms. He gathered himself, striking out at one before the room split. Those that followed Jericho's trade took one side. Construction workers on the other. Threats were called and fists were raised. In the open space between them, Rebecca remained. She stood oblivious to the rising tension around her, dancing to the music barely audible over the clamour. Steve still stood opposite her, torn between laughing at the stand off and smiling at the joyful drunk girl before him. He stepped forward, taking the hand she offered. Seeing the fuel around her, Rebecca chose to become the match. Seizing Steve, she spun off him, landing both feet on the nearest merc's chest. So started a brawl that Rebecca laughed all the way through, only stopping when the armed doormen burst into the establishment to end hostilities.  
'I'm hoping we won't have any punch ups at somewhere as cool and hip as Halcyon but no promises Steve' Rebecca assured him as she put on the black leather vest over her white shirt. Steve dressed himself in the unassuming dark blue button shirt and pinstripe pants. There was a surprise hidden in their clothes that Rebecca tried hard not to spoil. The walk through the tight busy streets gave glimpses of what was to come. Steve stopped when colour on his shirt began to glow as they walked near a UV light. Rebecca urged him onwards.  
'Not yet big guy. Wait until we get there'  
They met Jocelyn Hayward, dressed in a flowing black dress with her blond hair meticulously styled, in a street bar opposite the guarded club.  
In a first floor balcony of a noodle bar just feet from the trio, another blond woman watched them. Her fingers released the chopsticks in the box, rising lightly to the small device in her ear.  
'I have eyes on Rogers' she said, seemingly to herself.  
'What is his status Widow?' replied the voice of Coulson.  
'He's having a drink with Barnes. Fusion Bar. People that drink here usually end up at-'  
'Halcyon. Nice place if you can get in' Coulson cut in, 'Follow him in at your discretion Romanov. Karina is still unknown to them so feel free to cut loose. Observation only'  
'No problem Philip. Are you saying I need to unwind?'  
'Wouldn't hurt to-'  
'Hold up. Got something unexpected. Standby'  
Natalya turned in her seat to look at the familiar face making her way down the busy street.  
'Uh Coulson?'  
'Yes?'  
'I have a positive ID on Brooke Rumlow. Repeat that. Brooke Rumlow is back in Megaton. Please advise? She may recognise me as Karina'  
'Proceed as planned. Keep eyes on Rogers'  
Natalya looked back, only to see three empty seats where Steve, Rebecca, and Jocelyn had been moments before.  
'Shit' she cursed, getting up. Dodging back through the cafe she could only assume her target had gone into Halcyon.  
'Rogers is in Halcyon. Clear to proceed?' she clarified, masking her uncertainty.  
'Affirmative Widow. Don't go to wild'  
The spy produced a small, flat electronic tablet from her casual jacket. On one side was a small camera. In the heaving crowds in the street nobody paid her any heed as she scanned over the multilevel club building. The device beeped cheerfully after a few seconds, then a VIP pass materialised on the display. The small queue that formed ahead of Natalya betrayed just how busy Halcyon was.  
Inside, Steve and Rebecca followed Jocelyn as she skipped up a dimly lit stairwell. At the top, Barnes kept eyes on Rogers as her surprise became known. Through draped plastic sheets they pushed into the main hall of the venue. Ultraviolet lights illuminated a menagerie of coloured patterns across the three of them. Bass heavy music pounded from amplifiers all around the high walled room. Becky and Steve were immediately swept up by the assault on all their senses. Her hand scrambled in the dark to find his, squeezing his fingers between hers. In the flashing lights Steve saw the smile he'd always loved to see on his companion. Becky had to lean close the him just to be heard.  
'This is amazing right?'  
With her lips inches from his ear she still had to yell.  
'This is insane' he replied, grinning.  
'Come on you two! Let's get a drink!'  
Neither Vault exile heard Jocelyn address them, but accepted the hand she used to guide them through the crowds of luminescent people. Above them, Steve saw women wearing only fluorescent underwear dancing in suspended cages.  
'This is getting weirder and weirder' he said in a voice even he couldn't hear.  
The club had several bars dotted around the expansive hall. All were staffed by workers wearing as many lights as the room itself. Jocelyn, ahead of her friends, placed herself before a man with clusters of LEDs running across his chest and arms. Becky didn't hear the exchange between the two, but graciously accepted the two bottles of beer she was handed. The trio moved to the side of the hall, no less loud but with more room to breathe. A vacant seating booth was spied by Rebecca, where they took a moment to take the place in. Out of the throng, they could actually talk without wearing out their throats.  
'So what do you think of this place? It's cool huh?' Jocelyn asked, beaming.  
'It's fucking awesome Joss!' Rebecca replied, 'Your friend came up with all this crazy stuff?'  
'Yeah...kind of. They used to have parties like this long before the great war. Called them 'Raves''  
'Consider me a fan of the rave then Joss' Steve smiled.  
Rebecca kept eyes on Jocelyn as she watched Rogers finish his beer in one go, then got up.  
'Same again?' he asked, shooting both women finger guns.  
He only saw Rebecca nod and smile before he wandered back into the crowd. Angled mirrors above the bar gave Steve a clear look at the designs drawn over his clothes. Streaks of blue ran down both arms, and a large white star lit up his chest. Below the emblem were stripes of red and white. He zoned out for a moment, the only person looking up at the reflective surface as everyone around him became a seamless mass of activity. Something quickly became a constant in the swarming movement. Someone just to his right seemed to be captivated by him. The woman's face was obscured by a black mask with a glowing white 'X' over it. Her dark clothes were decorated with an iridescent bone structure. For a moment Steve seemed entralled enough to only look at this person in the reflection, before finally turning to meet her gaze.  
'Hi there' he said, raising a hand.  
Under the mask, Brooke was frozen. He was right before her, and very much alive. All those reports and rumours that the man known as Captain America was really Steve were true. She'd passed it off as an error or coincidence every time. Now it was here, and real. Her father truly lied to her face about what happened to the man. Seconds passed, Steve was still looking back at her expectantly. No response would come. Her jaw was clenched tight, an unusual warmth was felt in her cheeks. Only the sound of Rollins' voice in her ear snapped her out of the fugue.  
'Rumlow? Got eyes on yet?'  
Brooke shook her head, forcing a fake smile that Steve wouldn't even see. To hold in her raw feelings, her voice became deeper.  
'Hey stranger. Come here often?' she grunted, leaning close to him.  
It could still be someone else, she told herself. The man towered over her, so far from the scrawny, sickly person she'd been shackled to for five years.  
'No, actually. It's my first time'  
'Welcome to Halcyon. Your next one's on me'  
She had to play the part, going against every voice of reason yelling in her head. In the pulsating darkness he didn't notice how much her hand was shaking before it stroked his arm.  
'Oh, uh. Cool, thanks'  
Steve noticed the bright shapes and colours on those around him begin to blur and fade. Blinking did little to help his distorted vision. With her back to him, Brooke snapped open the vial of yellow powder and deposited it all in the beer she passed to him. The masked woman watched him take one sip, then melted away into the swirling crowd.  
The drink tasted a little different to Steve than the one bought for him by Jocelyn. The thought of which reminded him that he had yet to get a round for the two women. The half empty beer bottle was put down on the bar a little harder than Steve intended, catching the attention of the server.  
'You alright there pal?'  
Rogers put both elbows down and took a moment to centre himself.  
'Yeah, just light headed. Can I get two more of these? For my friends, of course'  
'Sure thing. Take it slow bud, it isn't a race'  
Confusion swelled within him. Alcohol hadn't affected him at all until now. He chalked it down to the loud music and flashing lights for his sudden lightness of head and dizziness. Finishing the beer given to him by the masked stranger furthered his confusion as the the disorientation cleared up. Rogers paid for the two drinks and set off towards the booth where Rebecca and Jocelyn conversed.  
In the midst of the swirling mass of people, something else took hold of Steve. He felt heavy suddenly. Each footstep was laboured. His mind slowed, with each thought delayed. His eyes went wide as the myriad of technicolour seemed to pull away from him. From the darkness a shape reappeared. The white 'X' heading up a glowing mass of bones. She stood before him once again.  
'It's working' Brooke said to the mic inside the mask, 'Wait for my go then move to intercept'  
She didn't anticipate Steve's next move. Despite his outward grogginess, Rogers' hand moved fast. Brooke flinched, but only felt a gentle finger under her chin.  
'Oh fuck' she cursed.  
The mask was flipped off of her face within the length of a beat of the music. For a moment she was still in shadow. Light flashed, illuminating her face in warm red. Steve froze. Brooke's courage faltered. As the ignorant throng moved around them in the pounding beat and pulsing visuals, time froze for the pair. There was nothing between them but two feet of drink-soaked floor. A dancing reveller backed into Steve but illicited no response from the tall man. He could only hear the sound of his breath, ragged as it escaped his chest.  
The blond woman broke the deadlock, stumbling between them in a half feigned intoxication.  
'Brooke!' she yelled, 'Heyyy it's me! Karina! Where have you been?'  
Her words half slurred, Natalya seized the girl and spiralled away from Rogers. Almost in synchronisation, Rebecca grabbed Steve's shoulder, pulling him out of the daze.  
'There you are dummy. I've been looking for you since you left' she called on deaf ears. Steve gave no resistance to her leading him back to the seating booth where Jocelyn sat with concern turning to relief. Rebecca sat him down opposite the waiting woman.  
'Thank God I found you when I did. Joss, tell him what he probably already knows' Barnes insisted.  
'You've probably been seeing some trippy shit, right Rogers?'  
'Uh yeah, wait how do you know?'  
'The drink I gave you had a weak hallucinogen in it'  
'It had a what?' Steve replied, wincing and leaning closer.  
'I didn't think you'd down the damn thing. Were all the colours spinning in the room?'  
'Yeah, and I saw a ghost'  
Rebecca frowned at his words.  
On the other side of the hall of incandescent jollity, Brooke gathered her senses enough to separate herself from Natalya. She pulled the mask back over her face and tried to return to the spot she had found Steve. Exaggerating her state further, 'Karina' became persistent.  
'Hey I haven't seen you in like forever, don't ditch me' she yelled, grabbing Brooke's arm. Natalya's heart quickened when she felt the woman's forearm tense up. Rumlow's other arm caught a flash of light as she moved to strike her. Natalya blocked it, her mind racing to sweep away the light effects of what she had already drank. A large arm whipped over her head, taking hold around her collar as Jack Rollins made himself known. Two strikes against his ribs from her elbow did nothing to loosen his grip. With Rumlow disappearing fast, she had to loose who she assumed to be a bouncer quick. Her arm shot back, lower this time. The blow between Rollins' legs gave her a second to free herself. In the process, Natalya felt the shimmer mask coming loose, along with the blond wig. It didn't matter. Her cover was blown and she had to leave. The fight was swift and completely unnoticed by the dozens of people close by. Karina is dead, she thought as she moved through to the exit. In a mirror she caught herself, crimson hair flowing free. She found a discarded mask on the ground and pulled it over her face.  
Once outside, Coulson noticed an unfamiliar tremble in her voice when she called him.  
'Widow here. My cover is blown. Repeat. Cover blown' she said, pounding through the sparsely crowded streets.  
'Blown? What happened in there?'  
'Rumlow. She had backup. I didn't want to risk her exposing me to Rogers. Next thing I'm in a chokehold'  
'You sure he wasn't a bouncer?'  
'Affirmative. This guy was spec ops. Allegiance unknown. I lost the shimmer mask too'  
'You're alive. That's what matters Natalya' cut in the voice of Fury.  
The SWORD director's entry to the conversation rattled Romanov. She felt like she'd failed him for the first time.  
'Director?'   
'Get out of Megaton Nat. Keep your face hidden if you can. STRIKE Echo are in a safe house near the overpass. Link up with them and await further orders'  
Natalya didn't let either man know her silence was due to a clenched jaw. Her face felt flushed. She looked down, watching a single tear fall free when she blinked. For a second it caught all the flashing lights of all colours around her before hitting the dark ground.  
'Yes director' she grunted.  
Outside Megaton she still felt warm despite her bare skin exposed to the night sir. The heavily armed men and women of STRIKE Echo were surprised when the woman in a long eared rabbit mask arrived at their covert bunker a mile from the junk city. She recognised the woman that opened the bulkhead door in response to the coded, rhythmic, knock.  
Rogers was happy to leave several hours later when Rebecca first suggested doing so. He chalked seeing Brooke down to the effects of the drink Jocelyn had given him. The blond woman had waved away when he told her his experience.  
'Yeah dude, this stuff can get pretty trippy, makes you see weird shit' she told him back at their booth 'It isn't called Kaleidos for nothing'. She wasn't alone when Steve and Rebecca rejoined her, keenly holding the arm of a young man plucked from the crowd.  
Rebecca held some apprehension about the validity of Steve's vision, but those evaporated as the pair continued to drink and dance into the night. Rogers went even as far as to order more of the hallucinogenic drink, albeit taking it slower. He was happy that something did have an affect on him, unlike alcohol. They quickly lost sight of Jocelyn and her friend, who insisted his name was Robert despite her calling him Johnathan.  
In the middle of a maelstrom of color and sound, there was one thing that remained constant for Steve. His sight of Rebecca never blurred or stretched like everything else. His perception of time went away completely, so it came as a total surprise when Rebecca glanced at her Pipboy. She beckoned him closer so he could hear her.  
'Its like half three, wanna head home?'  
'Sure. Want to find Jocelyn first?'  
'Nah, she'll be fine. She lives for this stuff'  
On their way out the pair passed their friend on one of the several sofas in the lower lounge of Halcyon. Steve couldn't help but notice the young man entwined in Jocelyn's arms was not Robert.  
'Maybe that's actually Johnathan' he quipped to Rebecca, making her laugh.  
The air outside the club was cold in comparison, making Steve shiver. The warmth inside and hours of dancing now left him covered in cooling sweat that was, initially, refreshing. The open air had a different effect on Rebecca, at least that's how it seemed. In the bustle of the early morning crowds, her grip on Steve's arm became tighter, with both hands.  
'Hey, you alright Becky?'  
He stopped when she stumbled, falling into him. Her face was buried in his side. At first he thought her shudders were from crying, but Rebecca was laughing. He threw both arms around her when she almost fell.  
'I think all my drinks have hit me at once!'  
'Okay. Let's get home all the quicker then'  
'Noooo I don't want the night to end. I want to explore somewhere we haven't been!' she protested.  
'But your legs are like jelly Becky'  
'Then carry me you big old hero'  
Rogers kept one arm around Rebecca as she clung to him and told him where to go. Within moments neither had any idea where they were in the labyrinthine depths of Megaton. She jokingly blamed him for becoming lost.  
'Where are we you big idiot? I thought we were getting food?'  
The narrow alley was home only to service yards and rear access to businesses, all of which were closed and locked. It was also dimly lit and devoid of life. Rebecca blinked repeatedly until her vision no longer blurred and doubled.  
'Hmmm I don't like this. Let's go back'  
She pulled herself away from Steve, finding sure footing by herself.  
'Hang on' Steve said, pulling up the local map on his Pipboy, 'Its a straight shot to Stahl's if we keep going'  
'Cool, lead the...aw shit'  
Rebecca cursed when she looked ahead of them. Steve had a similar reaction when he gazed to the other end of the thirty yard alley. Far above them, Jack and Brooke watched the ten strong gang surround the pair on the ground. From three storeys up, she could still clearly make out that it was Steve. The anger swelled up in her gut once again.  
'You think he's gonna survive this?' Rollins asked again.  
A part of her didn't want him to. She didn't want the result of her father's lies to survive or amount to anything.  
'If he's the supersoldier that Autumn wants, this will be a cakewalk. If he dies, this was a dead end and we can leave this trash city'  
Jack was about to continue, when the unfurling confrontation below drew his silent attention. Steve and Rebecca stood back to back, immediately pulling defensive stances even before and words were said. A man, seemingly the leader of the group despite his identical clothing, stepped forward. A short sword was held loosely in his hand, waved at Steve as he spoke.  
'You know...there's a reason folks don't come round here this time of night. Now you gotta learn the hard way. Come on. Everything you have. Now'  
Steve audibly sighed. His eyes flicked to each of the four men and women facing him behind the leader. Rebecca did the same. None of the gang members visibly carried firearms. There were knives, baseball bats, crowbars, even a length of pipe. Brooke noticed the same thing simultaneously, though Rollins eyed her taking a light finger from her pistol holster.  
'Look guys. Fellas. It's late. I want to get home, I'm sure you got better things to do…' Rebecca pleaded, her back to the leader.  
Steve, his eyes fixed on the knife wielder, nodded towards Rebecca and smiled.  
'Aw, you gotta get the bitch to talk for you?'  
'Okay, I'm done. Ready Becky?' Steve spat.  
'Uh huh'  
The pair charged their assailants with a balletic synchronisation. Rogers missed a clumsy sword swing, disarmed the leader, and sent him through a padlocked door. Rebecca used Rogers' distracting speed and strength to begin her assault, picking up an automotive part from the ground and throwing it. The nearest, crowbar holding, man was floored, giving her a better weapon. The feel of the reinforced steel tool reminded her of the baton she'd carry in the Vault. She spun it around in her hand in a quick flourish before engaging the rest of the gang.  
Steve made no effort to dodge any further attacks. His raised arms simply took the two handed swing of a steel baseball bat, so much that it jarred the man swinging it. He ploughed through the four gangers, relieving them of their weapons and throwing them into walls, doors, or garbage containers. Rogers whipped around at the sound of a gunshot. Rebecca had control of the weapon in her last opponents' hand, pointing it at Steve. The discharge surprised both, but gave her a moment to strike him across the face with the crowbar.  
'Woah. Hell yeah. Kind of miss this shit huh?' Rebecca called.  
Her glowing smile dropped when Steve fell to his knees. He felt something warm and wet spreading across his shirt just above the hip. At their vantage point, Brooke remained as still and silent as Jack, but he saw her knuckles turn white.  
'Steve!' Rebecca yelled.  
She crossed the distance between them, paying no heed to the world around her. The gangers that could walk were hurrying out of the alley. She caught him as he crumpled. Brooke only realised that he'd been shot when Rebecca's blood covered hand pulled away from the wound in his dark shirt.  
'I guess he can die like any other man' Jack said flatly, turning away.  
He had seen how tightly her jaw was clenched, but decided against bringing it up, heading back into the storehouse. Brooke remained frozen at the balcony, eyes fixed on the two people far below. She could see Steve's face clearer than ever now. His eyes were blankly staring up at her. Rebecca frantically pulled his shirt up to get a closer look at the wound.   
'Come on Steve, look at me. Stay with me, come on!'  
Tears streaming, she felt around the back of her companion. The feeling of a small exit wound gave her hope.  
'Okay. Okay Steve? It's a small in and out you're going to be fine'  
Rebecca tore at the sleeve of her own shirt, bunching it up to staunch the wound. That's when she saw it. The puncture hole in Steve's body had closed by itself. His eyes rolled around and settled on her.  
'What happened? Did I fall over?' he asked her.  
Far above, Brooke pulled herself away from the vantage point, chasing down Rollins. She hissed at him, keen not to alert her former Vault compatriots outside.  
'Jack! For fuck's sake Jack stop!'  
'What is it Specialist?'  
'He's alive. He's fine. Whatever my Dad did to him, means he can regenerate! Self heal!'  
Rollins stopped and turned slowly.  
'Autumn will be delighted to know this. He may also wish to know the nature of your relationship with Rogers prior to leaving the Vault'  
'I just knew him. We lived in the same sector-'  
'Cut the shit, Rumlow. I saw the way you watched him out there'  
'Fine' she relented, 'He was my husband. It was arranged. I felt nothing for him'  
'That didn't look like nothing. If this jeopardises our mission-'  
'It won't affect shit Jack. Let's get back to Alpha and report what we saw'  
Rollins nodded. The two gathered the gear they had laid out before observing the fight outside, including the small electronic device and shimmer mask that Rollins lifted from Karina during their tussle.  
One final pair of eyes were fixed on Steve and Rebecca as they approached Stahl's hotel and bar. Natalya sat alone at the edge of the balcony, giving her the best of the limited visibility of the crater. Jenny remained at the bar, somewhat perturbed at the single customer who was yet to leave as the clock ticked closer 4am. As Natalya's targets passed the seating area, she got up. An anger at her earlier failings made her eschew any subtlety.  
'Steve Rogers and Rebecca Barnes!' she called.  
The two looked up at her with tired eyes.  
'Come here. I don't have all night'  
Steve paused and looked at Rebecca. She shrugged and headed to the empty dining area where Natalya was already seated again, herself exhausted. Barnes was also done with any formalities after the events of the evening.  
'Who are you and what do you want?' Rebecca said, refusing the offered seat.  
Rogers stood beside her, conscious of the dark, damp patch on his shirt.  
'I'm Natalya Romanov. Strategic Wasteland Operations and Research Division. SWORD. I've been tailing you Vault runaways for a while, and I think it's time we brought you in for a talk'  
She paused to gauge the pair's reaction. As soon as Rebecca moved to respond, she was cut off.  
'Don't say anything now. I'm not here to discuss or debate. Just an offer. Come to the scrapyard south of Minefield whenever. Or don't. Choice is yours'  
Still denying them a chance to say anything, she raised a flat hand, looked down, then got to her feet and left the restaurant. Jenny audibly sighed at her last customer leaving, then gave Rebecca an incredulous look.  
'She looked deadly serious. Friend of yours?' the hotelier asked.  
'No. Never seen her before. Said she's from SWORD, whatever that is' the young woman replied.  
'Sword? Here? Wow, they're big league vigilantes. What did you do to get their attention?'  
'Damned if I know' Steve cursed lightly, before covering his mouth, 'Sorry Jenny, it's been a long night. We're gonna head up'  
'Sure thing sweet things'  
As the clocks approached 4am, the junk city looked no different to Steve as it did during daylight hours. The heaving, neon jungle a mess of glitz and darkness. A small thought of uprooting and moving elsewhere appeared in his mind, spurred by the earlier fight and seemingly endless attention from those who would drag him back to a war he had no part in. He considered voicing such concerns to Rebecca, only for her to fall asleep in her clothes moments after they entered their room.  
Steve was in no hurry to sleep, his mind still reeling from combat adrenaline. He guessed that his body kept him wired for danger longer than others. Either that Rebecca's half drunk state helped her drop off quickly. He took time to take off the blood stained shirt, gazing at the dark dried patch before casting the ruined garment into the bin. He recalled Rebecca's excitement when she returned with the luminous clothing just hours ago, only for it to be destroyed by those living outside the law of the city.  
In the suite's cramped bathroom Steve took a purposeful look at where he'd been shot after wiping clear the dried blood. The round, button sized, patch of scar tissue caught the light from the dangling bulb.  
'Maybe I am just meant for one thing' he sighed to himself.  
Rebecca surprised Steve by knocking on the bathroom door moments later.  
'You looking at where you got shot?' she called.  
As soon as he replied with a yes, she entered the small ensuite room. The woman had taken off her clothes from the evening out, and stood with only one of Steve's tops draped almost to her knees. Her eyelids felt heavy, vision blurred. She gently traced around his lower right side which had held him captivated in the mirror. Steve said nothing, just gazed at her with a shallow smile on his face.  
'Penny for your thoughts Captain Rogers?'  
He took her fingers and entwined them in his, gently pulling her closer.  
'I think we-'  
A finger from her free hand whipped up to his lips to silence the tall man.  
'You miss the fight' she declared.  
Steve sighed and chuckled.  
'Its not that I miss it...it's just...I feel like with what we're capable of-'  
'We're wasting ourselves in this town'  
'How did you know that Becky?'  
'Because it's how I feel too. During the Op at Bannister I watched you through the scope when the dust settled. There was this look in your eyes'  
Steve shivered as the woman's fingers moved up his face.  
'This second chance you got? Using the gifts it gave you? I could see that fire from half a mile away. Sure we only saved a guy that's a bit of a dick, but its something. We made a difference. We can do more'  
'So we take up Natalya's offer?' he asked her.  
'It's just a meet with SWORD. Not like we're signing our lives away'  
'No, we did that with GTown and look where it got us' he said with a shrug.


	23. Rivet City - 5th March 2278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's goals require more brawn than he possesses

Tony gave himself a full month to recover after returning to the ship. The time in captivity did little to help his injuries, and Pepper was adamant that she could run the store by herself a little longer. This morning though, he woke next to her with a renewed invigoration to get back to work. Pepper opened her eyes in an empty bed, with the smell and sound of cooking bacon filling her senses. Throwing on a robe she joined him in the apartment's kitchen.  
'Tony Stark cooking breakfast. There's something I thought I'd never see'  
'You know' he began without taking eyes off the sizzling pan, 'I got up today just feeling good. Like, really good. And I solely credit you so here's the beginning of my thanks'  
'That's so sweet of you'  
At around 8.30 the pair arrived in the market to begin opening SRP for the day. Stark took a moment on the first floor overlook by the market entrance, leaning on the metal railing. Potts noticed as she was halfway down the stairway.  
'Tony?'  
His gaze was fixed on the imposing reinforced block that bore his name, until her voice snapped him out of the daze.  
'Yeah? Oh. Just haven't seen the baby of mine in a while'  
'You sure you're okay?'  
'Absolutely, let's do this'  
Pepper unlocked the blast resistant door first and retrieved a clipboard holding the stock list.  
'Oh this is my favourite part' Stark beamed.  
With the store secured once again, they walked to the far end of the market. Through several bulkhead doors they passed, a different colour coded key for each one, until seemingly reaching the end of the ship. A chill wind swept over them at the last door. They had reached the midsection, where the ship had split in half when it grounded itself two centuries ago. A single bridge connected both sections, built by Stark himself. The bow section was completely unutilized by Rivet City due to its decrepit state and mirelurk infestation. Only a small forward hangar had any signs of use. All of its doors, save for the link to the bridge, were welded shut, giving Stark a sealed refuge in which his wares were created.  
Six industrial fabricators were arranged in a row. All whirred into life and illuminated when Pepper switched on the main fusion generator. The power in the room also brought JARVIS online. The orange hologram flicked into existence from a round table in the centre of the room.  
'Good morning Miss Potts. Mr Stark! A pleasure to see you return. I take it you are well?'  
'Never better JARVIS. Never better'  
'Excellent Sir. Miss Potts, I have completed yesterday's work order as requested'  
'Great stuff' she said, smiling at the hologram.  
As Pepper moved to begin loading the newly manufactured arms and ammunition into boxes, Stark idly flicked through the order manifest.  
'five hundred 5.56 for Gustavo at Tenpenny, five G36Cs for Philip Coulson, two Windrunner M96 for Marshall Greta Withers at Olney...hmmm'  
Potts noticed his intense gaze.  
'Something wrong Tony?'  
'Telford Carver? Guy who wanted two dozen AKs? Seen him before?'  
'Yeah, he came in a couple days ago. First timer. There a problem?'  
'Nope, he recieving today?'  
'Yes, got him and a Mr Coulson coming in for their orders'  
'Right'  
The two unfamiliar names weighed on Stark's mind as he helped finish load up the wheeled plastic cart with their stock. Once back in the market, Pepper noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet, but chalked it down to nerves. She saw him seemingly transform once he took the all weather jacket off, revealing the bespoke suit beneath. He straightened his back, checked the cuffs of his shirt, then fixed his hair in a small mirror hanging behind the sales desk. She found herself watching him for a moment too long. A small stab of unease hit her. The old Tony seemed to be back. The one that got himself abducted and almost killed.  
Stark looked up at Pepper, stood by the door to their store. Any day before his ordeal, Tony would throw a terrible joke her way or recall a sordid detail of his previous night's excesses. Today he just smiled at her with a warmth she'd only seen in the month since his return.  
Upon opening the shop, Stark raised a finger, mouthed 'one minute', and stepped outside. She got up from her desk at the mezzanine, getting to the railing overlooking the store when he returned with a man she knew well. John Harkness was the chief of Rivet City Security.  
'John?' she called, descending to the shop floor to greet the veteran soldier.  
'Virginia, maybe you could shed some light on why I'm here?'  
'You will soon enough Johnny boy. In the meantime, we have some pristine AKs if you want to peruse?' Tony quipped.  
Pepper frowned and silently beckoned Stark away from the newcomer.  
'Tony? You hate Harkness, why is he here?'  
'I have a hunch, Pep. Just a bad feeling about someone'  
'What do you-'  
He held her hand lightly.  
'Just trust me. Here's whats probably going to happen'

*

Half an hour passed. Several wastelanders came by, looked at hardware on the shelves, and left. One, a young scrap merchant from Alexandria, purchased a new metal helmet to replace her broken piece. Tony offered a part exchange.  
'You sure?' she said, producing the damaged helmet.  
The rusted half dome had a inch wide scar running from front to back.  
'Holy hell, you survived that?'  
'It wasn't on my head when the Deathclaw did this. Damn beast was caught in a snare. I thought it was dead when it lashed out. It was either this or my whole left arm. Only held on to this because it was my Dad's'  
Stark gasped incredulously at the young woman's tale. He took the polished chrome helm from its box and spun it in his fingers.  
'Tell you what. You hold on to that family heirloom that saved your life'  
'Really?'  
'Sure...and this new one is-'  
He trailed off, seeing a man behind her enter the store. He walked straight to the desk, not looking at anything on the shelves. Stark estimated that it had to be Carver. The girl had to leave.  
'This one's on the house. Let me just write it up'  
He pulled a scrap of paper and scribbled a note urging her to leave the store quickly and quietly, placing it inside the upturned helmet on the counter. She nodded and turned, walking around Carver. Telford looked to the right, eyeing up Harkness as he worked to disassemble an assault rifle on a work bench. John looked over his shoulder when the customer's attention returned to Stark.  
'I have an order to collect. Kalashnikovs' Carver grunted.  
'Excellent! We just got these babies made this morning' Tony exclaimed.  
'I'm Tony Stark, the 'S' in SRP Armorers'  
When Carver reached to reciprocate the offered handshake, Stark made a move. He gripped the man's hand, pushing the sleeve of the Bighorner skin jacket up. Three black bars were imprinted on his wrist.  
'Knew it! Slaver!'  
Stark's call brought John's attention. Carver pulled away, only to face the barrel of a pistol held by Tony. There was a hesitation which Telford seized. The gun was taken, a heavy fist knocking Stark to the ground. The slaver moved to shoot Tony when Harkness barreled into him. In the time it took Stark to get up and Pepper to come downstairs, Telford was disarmed and apprehended by the chief guardsman.  
'Oh Jesus Tony what were you thinking? Are you okay?' she fawned.  
Stark rolled around and sat up, rubbing the swelling redness around his left cheek.  
'Yeah uh. Is the room spinning for you too?'  
Harkness had Telford on his knees and cuffed, and shared Pepper's concern.  
'What happened to the signal Stark? Fuck. Are you trying to die?'  
'This ain't no way to treat a customer' Telford sneered, 'Jones is gonna hear about this. You don't want to make an enemy of Paradise Falls'  
John kicked the bound man over to silence him.  
An unwelcome anxiety washed over Tony when he got to his feet. He seized the sales counter when his legs turned to jelly. Pepper scrambled to support him, only to be gently brushed away.  
'Pepper I'm gonna…' he uttered through hyperventilation, 'You need to keep the store going for a while... I'  
Shaking hands grabbed frantically for the pencil and paper he'd just used to warn the trader. He wrote a list of names and organisations.  
'I'm going to take a little more time off. Promise me you will not sell guns to anyone except those on this list'  
'Tony, wait I-'  
'Please Pepper'  
His voice was trembling but soft, with the uncharacteristic sincerity he'd only recently shown. She accepted the list. Harkness nodded at her, which she reciprocated, then marched Telford out of the market.  
'Tenpenny, Olney, Craterside Supply, Canterbury, Rangers, RCSF, SWORD nobody else' Stark reiterated.  
'Tony what are you going to do?'  
'Something I've wanted to do since Fort Bannister'


End file.
